


Hearts and Minds

by Chillmaster3000



Series: Cerulean AU [2]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Please Be careful, car crash, some foul language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2178279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chillmaster3000/pseuds/Chillmaster3000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for the end of Season 2 and the beginning of Season 3. Mildly graphic. The Bartlet Administration is in the middle of what could be the greatest Presidential scandal in modern history. Lightning strikes twice, apparently, because there's another car crash after Mrs. Landingham's that threatens to be just as devastating. Second installment of the Cerulean AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> There is a death and description of injuries. It's not too often, but please be careful is this is triggering to you. 
> 
> On a lighter note, there are one or two characters in here that you may recognize from other places. See if you can figure out who!

For the first time in a long time, Zach’s life was looking up. 

His foster parents, Christine and George Dosil, were pretty cool. Christine was a bit loud, but that was just her volume setting as she ran through life somewhat hectically. George was quieter and was way calmer. The words he seemed to say most were “slow down.” Zach had to say that phrase several hundred times a day, so he and George got along pretty well. Christine was better with Jason and Cerulean; they liked going on adventures together, Zach and George following after them with just a little apprehension. Things were going well and Zach had overheard the two talking about permanent placement for the boys.

Zach felt like a big weight had been lifted from his shoulders- there was no more constant worry if the little ones were in sight and out of Dad’s way, if there was anything even slightly out of place that could set Dad off, or if Jeremy was looking for a fight. Life hadn’t been this simple since Mom left four years ago. 

*

It hadn’t taken long for a morning rhythm to take shape in the Dosil house; the Barbers were not the first foster kids to live there. George made breakfast and Christine set out the backpacks for the little ones. Zach was in charge of lunches, which Jason and Cerulean put in their own bags. Christine had to hurry off to work before they went to school. When it was time to go, Jason and Cerulean put their backpacks on. Jason pulled his on with all the precision of a brain surgeon, the straps having to sit exactly right on his shoulders. Cerulean swung hers on with Fred in one hand, the bear flying through the strap. Zach threw his over his shoulder and ushered them outside. George ambled out after them, taking in the lovely weather.

“I wanna sit by the window!” Cerulean said, bouncing in front of the car door. 

“But it’s my turn to sit by the window!” Jason protested. Zach sighed as he tried to remember whose turn it was. This was pretty much a daily argument. Christine wanted them all in the backseat of the car, because even though Zach met the height requirement, he still hadn’t met the weight requirement for sitting in the front seat. And Zach, they had discovered, got nauseous if he didn’t sit next to a window, so the little ones had to rotate who got the other one. 

“You had the window yesterday, Cerulean. You’re in the middle, come on.” Zach took his sister by the hand as he opened the car door, pulling her in after him. Cerulean huffed as she climbed into the middle booster seat.

“Fred doesn’t like the middle…”

“Well, Fred needs to learn to share,” Zach said. Jason beamed as he sat in the booster seat next to the right window. George leaned in over him.

“We all good in here? Remember everything?” George asked. 

“Yep!” Jason chirped.

“All good,” Zach echoed. Cerulean muttered darkly into the matted fur on Fred’s head. George, who was used to at least one kid being annoyed with their seat, just chuckled and shut the car door. Zach turned to his grumpy sister. He gave her a long look until she turned to him.

“What?” Cerulean said, voice still muffled by fur.

“Let’s get down to business,” Zach began. Cerulean lifted her head, clutching her bear tightly.

“To defeat the Huns,” she said, quite serious.

“Did they send me daughters?” Jason picked up as George got in the car.

“When I asked for sons!” all three sang. 

*

Disney was the sound of the morning ride. Zach personally thought he was getting a little old for Disney, but the little ones liked it. Cerulean wanted to be Belle when she grew up. Jason wanted to be a mermaid. So Part of Your World, Under The Sea, Belle, and Tale As Old As Time followed I’ll Make A Man Out of You. They were in the middle of Be Our Guest when Jason shrieked. 

Things happened fast after that. Zach felt the whole world suddenly fly to the left, screaming flooding his ears. He hit his head on the window with a smack and glass shattered somewhere on his right. The world stopped moving as suddenly as it had started. Zach impacted the door with a crack in his arm that he knew well. His head spun as he took in the situation.

The screaming had stopped. Zach’s arm was definitely broken and something warm was trickling down his face. Three of the four door windows had shattered, both the right side windows and George’s window. The windshield was cracked and- and the backs of the front seats were splashed with blood. Zach, heart in his throat, turned to his right.

The sight he was met with burned in his brain as he screamed, and it would give him nightmares for the rest of his life.


	2. And Then It Got Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam thought things were as bad as they could get. He's wrong, and he's going to need reinforcements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are much longer on FF.net. I decided to shorten them here. There are a lot of OCs running about in this. Consider yourself fore-warned.

Sam was having a bad week. 

Less than three days ago, Sam learned that the President had Multiple Sclerosis and covered it up during the campaign into their administration. Subsequently, he’d been told that concealing this was technically a national fraud conspiracy, and the White House would be announcing the MS to the country. There might or might not be a re-election campaign. All of this happened before yesterday. Yesterday, Mrs. Landingham was killed in a car accident. An hour ago, Sam found out there was asbestos in the East Room, which was where they had been planning to hold the press conference. And did Sam mention that he was the last Senior Staffer to find out about the MS? That Joey Lucas, who didn’t even work at the White House, knew before he did? That he was expected to do all the prep for the conference- in which they had no clue what the President would say about running again- alongside his normal work while acting like nothing was wrong? That he hadn’t seen or spoken to Cerulean in days because of all this and felt like the worst dad-to-be ever? 

When this is all over, Sam thought as he walked into his office that morning with four hours of sleep to tide him over, I’m taking a day off and I am spending it entirely with Cerule. 

He had a free moment, so Sam sat at his desk and tried to relax for just a few minutes. Taking deep breaths, he thought about good things. When the…scandal was over, he’d get to leave the office. He’d spend a whole day with Cerulean, just the two of them, and he’d explain why he’d been so absent. They’d had a nice arrangement before the whole MS mess started eating Sam’s time. Her new foster parents, the Dosils, let Sam pick Cerulean up from school some days and take her to the West Wing. They spent Saturday afternoons together, though probably not this week. And in a few months (or so CPS said), Cerulean would be legally his daughter, and Sam would have much more time with her. He’d work at home when she was done with school, and if there was no re-election campaign, he’d find a new job with better hours-

“Sam.” Kathy opened the door to his office, interrupting Sam’s attempt to relax before he plunged back into this awful day. Sam looked up with a sigh.

“Yeah?”

“You have a phone call.”

“Is it terribly important?” Sam asked. He had five minutes before he had to be anywhere.

“Metro Police, so maybe,” Kathy said.

“Metro?” Sam repeated. Kathy shrugged. Sam picked up the phone as she went back to her desk.

“This is Sam Seaborn.”

“Mr. Seaborn, this is Officer Kendall, from the Metropolitan Police,” a slow, drawling voice said. “I’m sorry to inform you that there has been a car collision this morning.”

“A car collision?” What the hell did this have to do with him? Everyone he could possibly be listed as an emergency contact for was here or out of state- oh, fuck.

“Yes, sir. Cerulean Barber was involved, and you are her emergency contact,” Kendall said. “She and her brothers were being driven to school by their foster father when another car impacted theirs.”

“How bad was it?” Sam said, praying that something this week could go his way even just a little bit.

“It’s fairly serious, sir. I understand Cerulean is being prepped for surgery right now,” Kendall said. Fuck. “You’d best come in and speak to the doctors.”

“Right, right, of course.” Sam rubbed his forehead. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I’ll be there when you do.” Officer Kendall hung up. Sam set the phone down. Kathy had shut his door before leaving, and he allowed himself to lose it for a second.

“God fucking damn it!” Sam felt overwhelmed, fear-filled tears threatening to claw their way out. He shoved them down with all the mental fortitude he could muster as he stood and walked to his door.

“Kathy!”

*

Hannah Seaborn had been planning to surprise her son and soon-to-be granddaughter with a visit. She was on the East Coast with friends anyway, and had planned to stop in D.C. before going back to California. Hannah was in Richmond, Virginia when she got a call from Sam’s office.

“Hello, Kathy, dear. How are you?” Hannah said when she picked up the cell phone. 

“I’m fine, Mrs. Seaborn, but we have a problem. How soon can you get a flight to D.C.?” Kathy said, voice urgent. Hannah’s heart skipped a beat.

“I’m in Virginia right now. What’s happened?” she asked.

“It’s Cerulean,” Kathy said. “There was a car accident.”

*

It was too quiet. 

Sam expected the hospital to be as busy as it had been after the Rosslyn shooting: lights, sounds, people rushing and shouting, the communal buzz of adrenaline. Instead, it was calm. 

The receptionist took Sam’s name and checked his White House ID. Her colleague paged Officer Kendall while she printed out a visitor’s badge. After two or three minutes (which felt like an eternity to Sam for various reasons), a police man arrived. He was an older black man with graying curly hair and a neat beard. 

“Mr. Seaborn?” he said. Sam nodded. “I’m Officer Kendall. If you’d follow me please.” Sam and Kendall began down the hallway. 

“Is Cerulean in surgery yet?” Sam asked. 

“She is. There’s some talk of internal bleeding, so they moved very quickly,” Kendall said. “I’m taking you to the ICU; her brothers and foster father are there. Zachary and Mr. Dosil are mostly uninjured but Jason is in critical condition.”

“How bad?” 

“Very, poor boy. Not surprising, though,” Kendall said. “See, their car was hit on the passenger side by a bigger car, and Jason was on that side, so he received most of the impact. Cerulean was in the middle.”

“Jesus,” Sam breathed. “And what happened with the other car?”

“The driver got out and ran. We’re looking for him now,” Kendall replied. “We have every reason to believe this was no accident. Onlookers say that the driver not only saw their car, but seemed to be waiting for it.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Sam said. Kendall shook his head.

“’Fraid not, sir. It’s a sorry business, all of it.”He stopped outside the door to an ICU room. “This is Jason’s room, and where they’ll bring Cerulean after her surgery. Zachary and Mr. Dosil are waiting in here for the doctor to come explain the procedures. You can wait with them.”

“Thank you, officer. If you wouldn’t mind keeping my office updated on the search for the other driver-”

“Consider it done. My prayers are with your girl,” Kendall said. “Call me if you need anything.” He handed Sam a card with his number and turned to go. Sam went into the room.

There was only one bed in the room, despite there being space for two. Jason lay in the bed farthest from the door. The bright morning light fell on him, making his fair skin look terrifyingly pale. From where Sam stood, Jason looked unscathed. But this was the good side, Sam thought, knowing the brunt of the injuries were on the right side. Two chairs had been pulled up next to the bed, one for Zach and one for George. Zach’s left arm was in a cast and sling. George had bandages running up his arm too, and an impressive bruise forming on the side of his face. Both had cuts littered over their skin, probably from broken glass. Zach stared at Jason intently. George looked up when he heard Sam come in.

“Hey, Sam.”

“Hi, George. I just spoke to Officer Kendall,” Sam said, coming to stand by Jason’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” George replied. “You look awful.”

“Thanks,” Sam said dryly. “It’s been a rough week and it’s not looking up yet.” He looked at Zach. “Zach? You okay, man?” Zach continued staring at Jason like he hadn’t heard.

“Hasn’t said a word since we got here,” George said. “Can’t blame him- a real hero, this guy. He got his wits together pretty fast and pulled the little ones out of the car before the cops even got there.” Sam nodded, not mentioning but definitely thinking that he’d been told to always wait for paramedics before moving someone with serious injuries. 

“How’s Jason?” Sam asked. George shrugged.

“We’re waiting for him to stabilize before getting a prognosis,” he said. “Did you see a doctor on your way in? We’re supposed to be getting an update on Cerulean.”

“No, I didn’t,” Sam replied. “Is Christine here yet?”

“Trust me, you would have heard if Christine were here,” George said. “She doesn’t have much of a quiet setting, especially in situations like this.”

“I have a friend like that,” Sam said, picturing Josh harassing doctors and nurses for answers. 

“The door to the room opened and Sam turned. A youngish man walked in. He had a lot of hair and dark framed glasses. There were purple letters sewn onto the pocket of his lab coat that named him ‘Whiz Kid.’

“Mr. Dosil and Mr. Seaborn?” he said. The men nodded. “I’m Luis Nunez, the observing surgeon. I’ve been asked to fill you in on Cerulean Barber’s procedure. Would you like me to wait for Mrs. Dosil?”

“I really can’t wait. If we could just start now, it would make things a lot easier,” Sam said.

“I can fill Christine in when she gets here,” George said. “Go on, Doctor.” Dr. Nunez nodded as he came over to stand beside Sam.

“Of course. Miss Barber came in with internal bleeding. Her pulmonary artery was damaged, sending blood into the chest cavity and lungs. We’ll be repairing the artery as we remove the blood from the places it shouldn’t be,” Dr. Nunez said. “You should be aware that this is a very risky procedure. There isn’t a guarantee of success here.” Sam nodded, heart plummeting in his chest. “But our staff has some of the best surgeons in the country, including one of the most awarded pediatric surgeons. She’s in good hands.”

“I know,” Sam said. 

“I imagine you do, sir,” Dr. Nunez said. “You aren’t staying, but I can have the staff keep you updated if you’d like.”

“That’d be great, thank you. I’m going to stay as long as I can, but my mother should be here shortly to stay,” Sam said. “If that’s allowed- I’m not sure how the rules of the ICU apply here.” Dr. Nunez paused.

“I’m not sure, but I’ll find out. I’ve got to get back to the OR now, is there anything I can get for any of you?” He looked at Zach, who was still fixed on Jason like his gaze would keep Jason alive. Zach did not answer. 

“I don’t think so,” George said.

*

“Hey, Toby!” Josh barged into Toby’s office, his usual frantic manner made even more so by stress. 

“Josh?” Toby said shortly, scribbling out another sentence in another draft. 

“You seen Sam lately? He’s supposed to meet with Babbish and me in like five minutes,” Josh said.

“Don’t you think I have enough to do without keeping track of where Sam is?” Toby replied. “I can’t even do that on a normal day.”

“I thought you might have sent him somewhere, coz he didn’t meet with C.J. earlier either,” Josh said. 

“I did not.”

“I guess I’ll try and track him down then.”

“Ask Kathy. Knowing Sam’s location actually is part of her job description,” Toby said, scratching something out.

“I would, but she looked busy,” Josh replied. Toby turned to Josh with no small amount of incredulity.

“And I don’t?”

*

When Hannah arrived at the hospital, a tall woman with dirty blonde hair was speaking to the receptionist at the desk. Neither appeared very pleased with each other.

“-if you would just wait here, ma’am, you’ll be escorted to your husband shortly,” the receptionist was saying as Hannah approached. 

“If you would tell what room it is, I could find it myself,” the woman replied irritably. 

“It’s hospital policy regarding the ICU,” the receptionist said, tone very polite and patient. She turned to Hannah, who was hanging back behind the tall woman. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“I’m Hannah Seaborn, I’m here to see the Barber children,” Hannah said as the tall woman stepped aside to allow her access to the desk. 

“I just need your identification, then you can wait with Mrs. Dosil to be escorted to the ICU,” the receptionist said. Hannah handed over her driver’s license and the tall woman studied her.

“You’re Sam’s…mother?” she asked. Hannah nodded. “I’m Christine Dosil. The foster mother.”

“Yes, Sam’s mentioned you,” Hannah said. “It’s nice to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances.” 

“Your license, ma’am.” The receptionist handed Hannah’s license back. 

“I’m assuming you don’t know any more than I do at this point,” Christine said. 

“Probably less. Sam’s assistant called me a little less than a half-hour ago,” Hannah replied. A young woman, probably a volunteer from the college attached to the hospital, walked past them towards the desk.

“You called?” she said, adjusting her turquoise hijab. 

“Rahma, please take Mrs. Dosil and Mrs. Seaborn to ICU #7, Jason Barber,” the receptionist said.

“Oh, okay.” Rahma turned to the two blonde women. “Follow me, please. The ICU is this way.” She began walking down the hall. Hannah and Christine followed after her.

“I still think I could have found it myself,” Christine grumbled. 

“I’m sure you could, but they don’t want people wandering around the ICU,” Hannah said. “What do we know about the accident at this point?”

“We know it was certainly no accident,” Christine answered. “The police are saying it was planned.”

“Planned?” 

“When I get my hands on the man responsible, I’m going to rip his f- damn throat out,” Christine said, balling her fists. “Did Kathy tell you about Jason?”

“No, I just heard that it was bad. Critical condition?” Hannah said. Christine nodded.

“Incredibly. He’s so mangled they wanted to keep Zach away, but they couldn’t get the poor kid to leave his brother,” Christine growled, fury evident in her voice. “Who plans to hurt children? Especially when they’ve already been through so much?” 

“I don’t know,” Hannah murmured. Her stomach churned now, having been unsettled since she spoke to Kathy. Hannah knew Cerulean’s story well from Sam, but it seemed to be starting a new chapter of hardship.

Rahma turned to look at them over her shoulder. 

“I don’t want to pry, but is this Jason Barber the son of Thomas Barber?” she said. “I only ask because my Domestic Violence class has been following the story.”

“He is,” Christine answered. “He and his siblings were doing much better until this morning.”

“Oh, I have no doubt! Foster parents are pretty great, you know, most of the time,” Rahma said. “But Thomas Barber just got convicted last week, so this is a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“It is,” Hannah said. Or perhaps it isn’t, she thought. They reached a door and Rahma stopped.

“Well, if you guys need anything, there’s a bunch of us interns floating around today,” Rahma said. “Most of us are pretty helpful, but I’d avoid Kevin. He’s…um, a little difficult.”

“Which one’s Kevin?” Christine asked. 

“The tall white guy in the camo. You’ll know him when you see him, he’s…distinctive,” Rahma replied. “Good luck with everything.” She left. Christine and Hannah went into the room.

There was one bed in the room, though there was space for two. A thin, horrifyingly pale boy lay in that bed and Hannah knew it was Jason. He had several thin cuts on the side of his body Hannah could see, so she imagined that his other side was probably much worse. Sam stood behind an older boy with his arm in a cast and a small man with bandages up his side. The boy had wild brown curls, one side matted with sweat and probably some blood, and big brown eyes fixed on his brother. The man was very tanned and had thinning dark hair. Christine shut the door and the two men looked up.

“Hey, Chris,” the man said, waving tiredly. Sam looked surprised as Christine walked to her husband.

“You guys got here fast,” he said. Hannah was perturbed to see that he looked absolutely exhausted, stress etching his face. She hadn’t seen him this ragged since he battled with mono in his senior year of high school. He seemed to not have had much sleep, if the circles under his eyes were any indication, and his clothes had been worn for at least a day more than was usually recommended for a single outfit.

“I was in Virginia, I was already on my way,” Hannah said. “Kathy said I could come.”

“Well, that’s great.” Sam came around the bed to her. “I’ve got to get back to the office anyway, so this is George-” He pointed to the man. “-and that’s Zach, and that’s Jason.” He gestured to the boys, first the curly-haired one and then the pale one in the bed. “You’ve already met Christine, so George can fill you guys in on everything. You can call Kathy, Ginger, or Bonnie at any point if you need me, you’ve got their extensions-”

“You’re not staying?” Christine demanded. Sam and Hannah turned to her. Hannah noticed Christine’s hand by Jason’s less injured side. A pink blanket had appeared in his hand. “You’re going to be Cerulean’s father, you can’t leave!”

“I know,” Sam said, looking resigned. “But I can’t, Christine, I’m sorry. Work is…crazy right now-”

“You haven’t seen her in three days!”

“I know.” Sam’s fists clenched and Hannah saw the pain flash in his eyes. She put a hand on his arm and he relaxed slightly. “Christine, there’s…something I can’t talk about right now, but you’ll understand tonight. I have to go. I don’t want to.” Christine huffed, but her anger was mildly mollified.

“Whatever it is better be damn important,” she said.

“It is, I promise-”

“Mr. Seaborn will take care of Cerule.” A quiet voice spoke, causing them all to turn to Zach. Both Sam and George looked shocked. Zach had nothing more to say, lapsing back into silence.

“Thank you, Zach,” Sam said. “I’m gonna head out, but if anything happens, call,” He kissed Hannah on the cheek and took her hand off his arm. Sam left, despite probably wanting desperately to stay. Hannah wanted him to stay too. But she just turned back to the Dosils and Barbers instead of stopping her son.

“Listen, Christine, cut him some slack when he comes back,” George said quietly. “He’s heading to a funeral later.”

“I didn’t know that. How was I supposed to know that?” Christine said. She did, under the anger and fear she was overwhelmed with, look slightly apologetic. 

“You weren’t, I’m just sayin’.”

“Sam understands the stress you’re going through right now, he’s going through the same,” Hannah said. “So a kind word later will smooth things over. He’s very forgiving.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Christine said, sincere. She did, however, quickly change the subject. “George, what’s going on with Cerulean?” Her husband sighed. 

“You might want to sit down…”

*

Sam walked into Senior Staff several minutes late, Margaret’s disapproval at his back. He was then met with four exasperated looks. 

“Well, look who decided to join us at last,” Leo said. 

“I’m sorry, I was-”

“I don’t care where you were. You weren’t here,” Leo interrupted. Sam imagined Christine would say something similar later. “You blew off Josh and C.J., and now you’re late for Staff. We’ve got less than fifteen minutes before the funeral, so sit down and try to catch up, would you?”

“But Leo-”

“Sit down,” Leo said again, more ice in his voice this time. The command to shut up was implicitly obvious, so Sam complied in silence. Leo and Toby returned to the conversation they’d been having. Sam felt C.J.’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t focus on the conversation. He kept seeing the mutilated boy back in GWU, his bones bent in directions they weren’t supposed to and some of them pulverized. Sam wondered what Cerulean looked like as she was being operated on. He wondered if it had hurt, the actual crash, or if she’d lost consciousness right off. Was she scared? God, if she had been conscious, she must have been terrified. He should be at the hospital. He should have made an effort to see her this week, screw work-

“You got that, Sam?” Leo snapped. Sam had gotten none of that, but he nodded anyway. “All right. Everybody out. I’ll see you at the cathedral.” The staff stood. Josh was the first out, ducking away towards his office before anyone could talk to him. That wasn’t surprising to Sam at all; Josh handled grief like he handled every difficult emotion- he didn’t talk about it and pretended it wasn’t there. Toby walked slightly ahead of Sam, but turned to his deputy when they were in the hall. 

“Snap out of it.” Toby’s order was quiet and it took Sam a minute to realise his boss was talking to him.

“What?”

“I said, snap out of it! God, Sam, get your head out of the clouds!” Toby stormed off. Sam felt a sudden urge to follow Toby and tell him exactly where to shove it in no uncertain terms, but instead he clamped his mouth shut. This wasn’t Toby’s fault. This wasn’t Leo’s fault. No matter how much they made all this harder. Sam felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see C.J., who looked fine, but her eyes betrayed that she was feeling about as awful as he felt.

“Hey, Sam, about what happened in there-”

“I’m sorry I blew you off,” Sam said quickly as they started down the hall again.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” C.J. said, which Sam found surprising. “Look, Leo and Toby…they’re being hard on you because they can’t take it out on the people they really want to. It’s not you.” Sam nodded.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not you. You are dealing with this in your way and they’re dealing with this in theirs.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s this whole thing, you know. It’s not you.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you still listening or are you saying yeah when I stop talking?” C.J. asked.

“I’m listening, C.J., I’m a great listener,” Sam said. 

“You weren’t listening to Leo at all,” C.J. pointed out. Sam shrugged. “Sam, are you all right?” She stopped him to look her in the eye. Sam felt torn- on the one hand, he really wanted to talk to somebody about Cerulean. On the other, they were supposed to be getting ready to go to the cathedral and frankly C.J. had more than enough on her plate.

“How are any of us supposed to be all right today?” Sam said, splitting the difference.

“Most of us are pretty much the same way we’ve been since we found out, but you seem worse this morning,” C.J. said. “Where’d you go? Are you okay?” She held his gaze until Sam was compelled to answer honestly.

“I’m not okay,” he admitted. “Something else happened, and I had to go take care of it. I didn’t want to blow you off-”

“I got over that at Staff, Sam, when you came in looking like you’d been hit by a truck,” C.J. said. “We don’t have a lot of time now, so when we get back, you find me and we’ll talk. Or you can talk to someone else, like Leo or Toby, but talk to someone, okay?” Sam nodded. C.J. smiled at him. “It’s gonna be okay, Sam.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sam said, thinking about Jason again. God, he should really be at the hospital right now…


	3. Updates and Miscommunication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Mrs. Landingham's funeral, the news of the second car crash is spread in a perhaps unprofessional way. Some are left out; some misinterpret each other.

Zach sat a silent vigil over his little brother. He pretended that he couldn’t hear Christine and George talking about him in hushed tones, as Christine tried to insist he shouldn’t be on this side of Jason. Zach knew he was not moving from this spot until Cerulean came out of surgery.

This is all my fault, he thought as he watched the slow, struggling rise and fall of Jason’s chest. Zach could still see all the blood that had sprayed over the back of the car. It had covered Jason and Cerulean, Jason nearly trapped by the mangled car door, Cerulean’s head lolling over her seatbelt. Fred the Bear had fallen out of Cerulean’s hand and was by Jason’s feet in the twisted metal of the door.

This is all my fault.

They’re my responsibility. I should have protected them. I should have put Jason in the middle and Cerulean in my seat, then-

“Zach?” The Hannah woman, Mr. Seaborn’s mom, put a hand on Zach’s good shoulder. Her hand was tiny and warm with long pink fingernails. “Zach, I’m going to get some food for everyone. Would you like anything?” Zach shook his head.

“Zach, man, you’re gonna need to eat sooner or later,” George said. Zach didn’t answer that.

“I’ll grab something for him to have later,” Hannah compromised. “Christine, what do you suggest?”

This is all my fault.

*

Sam, as a pallbearer, had to pay attention at the funeral. That didn’t stop his mind from wandering.

Two car collisions in two days. One accidental, as far as Sam knew, and one intentional. The first was fatal, and Sam could only hope the second wasn’t. God, who deliberately rams their car into someone else’s? Did this unknown asshole know who would be in the car, that their victims would be three battered kids? Had it been a plan to kill them? Jason, fragile angelic-looking Jason, was fighting to breathe and Cerulean’s fate was in the hands of a surgical team. Was this the plan?

More importantly, was this His plan?

Sam was not religious, never had been. Sure, he’d gone to Christmas and Easter Masses, baptisms, weddings, and funerals. He’d never gone to church outside of those kinds of things and he certainly didn’t give much thought to God or any sort of Divine Plan on a regular basis. Today, though, today Sam was thinking about them a little too much.

Why? The Barbers had just gotten away from their evil dick of a father and a small devil of a brother. Why would it be now that something like this would happen? Sam was adopting Cerulean. She was on her way to if not a normal life at least a better one than she’d had. For Zach and Jason, there was talk of them being permanently placed with Christine and George. Things had been going well until some asshole decided that couldn’t be so. Then again, Mrs. Landingham had just bought that new car when she’d gotten into her accident. Maybe that was how it worked. Maybe when things got too good, Sam thought as he helped lift the casket, things had to end.

Sam could almost hear Mrs. Landingham scolding him.

“Now, Sam, don’t think like that. God isn’t angry or small to do that kind of thing. Things happen. They just do. Don’t blame Him, coz that’s not gonna help Cerulean or Jason one bit.”

*

Hannah’s phone rang as she was walking down the hall back to the ICU. She ducked out of the way to a secluded corner and juggled the food she was carrying. Finally Hannah extricated her phone from her pocket.

“Hello?” she said softly, hoping no nurses would walk by.

“Hey, Han, it’s Joseph. Why are you so quiet?” Oh, damn it.

Joseph was Hannah’s ex-husband. After their rather messy divorce and Sam’s vitriolic emails to his father, the former spouses had sat down for a very long talk. They’d managed to work through their mistakes (mostly on his part) and betrayed feelings (mostly on hers) enough to make peace. Joseph had not reached that point with Sam. And though Joseph was eager to repair their relationship, the last thing Sam would want today was his father being introduced to the mess.

“It’s not a good time, Joe,” Hannah said in a hushed voice. 

“I won’t be long then. Have you seen Sam yet?” Joseph asked. 

“Yes, but things are frantic right now, I really can’t talk.”

“Is everything all right, Hannah?” Joseph said, sounding concerned. 

“Not really,” Hannah replied. “I’d tell you more, but I have to get back and you know how Sam will be if you get involved.” Joseph sighed.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll let you go, but gimme a call when you can, would you?”

“Of course, Joe. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. Take care of Sam.” He hung up and Hannah shoved the phone back into her pocket. She continued back to the ICU.

“We were just saying we should send out a search party,” Christine said when Hannah entered the room. Hannah smiled.

“So sorry about the delay. Sam’s father called, but I got him off the phone quickly enough.” She handed George a sandwich from the bag. “There you are.”

“Thanks. I don’t think Sam’s ever mentioned his dad,” George said. Hannah winced.

“Well, that’s not surprising.” She gave Christine a sandwich as the younger woman arched an eyebrow. 

“I’m guessing there’s a story to be had there,” Christine said.

“Oh, it’s really not that interesting. We’ll just say that Sam and his father have issues,” Hannah said. “Zach, are you hungry?” The boy shook his head again. 

“That must make holidays difficult,” Christine remarked. Hannah shrugged as she set the bag aside. 

“We haven’t really spent the holidays together since Sam was in school,” she said. “He is on the other side of the country, after all, it’s a bit difficult.”

“What, where do you live?” 

“Orange County, California,” Hannah answered. Christine’s eyes widened.

“And you’re his only family?”

“Yes, but-”

“You live all the way in California and he’s adopting a child on his own?” Christine said, probably louder than was recommended.

“Not now, Chris,” George said.

“Yes, now, George! I’ve had my doubts about this since the beginning of all this,” Christine said. “I like Sam, I do, he’s a good guy. But I don’t think he gets what being a parent is like. I don’t know that he knows how much responsibility he’s taking on here.”

“Come on, who did at the start? We didn’t,” George said. 

“No, Christine is right,” Hannah said. “Sam doesn’t know yet what being a parent is like. He’s on his way, but he’s not there yet. And he’s going to need help, but I’m moving to be closer and he’s got his friends.”

“Do you think that’s going to be enough?” Christine asked. 

“I know that he loves Cerulean, and he will do his all to take care of her,” Hannah replied. “That should be enough, I think.”

“That’s all I can ask for,” Christine said, looking slightly relieved. “I just want the kids to be all right.”

*

After they got back to the office, Kathy, Bonnie, and Ginger all checked their messages right away. Neither Metro nor Hannah had called, which was both frustrating and relieving. They turned to each other with slumped shoulders and red eyes.

“Do you think she’s going to be okay?” Ginger asked quietly. 

“I don’t know. They saved Josh,” Bonnie said. 

“I think that was a different kind of surgeon,” Kathy said, moving to her computer again. “But maybe all their surgeons are miracle workers.” Charlie walked into the bullpen as she said that and did a double-take at her words.

“Whoa, why are we talking about surgeons? Something happen?” he asked.

“Cerulean’s in the middle of cardiac surgery,” Bonnie said as Kathy began her Internet search. “She and her brothers were in a car crash this morning.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Charlie said, stunned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I wish.”

“Her father got convicted two days ago! Two!” Charlie exclaimed. “This can’t be a coincidence.”

“The police said it was probably on purpose, so you might be right,” Kathy said. Sam came into the bullpen. 

“Kathy, could you look up-” 

“Already on it,” she interrupted, looking up at him. “Most pediatric cardiology deals with heart defects, I’m going to check out regular cardiology.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“No word from Metro,” Bonnie said.

“Or your mom,” Ginger added. Sam nodded.

“Okay.”

“Sam, I just heard. There anything I can do?” Charlie said. Sam turned to him.

“Know any good psychics? I could use a preview of the next day or so,” Sam said. 

“My last psychic told me I’d win the lottery last month. So, no good ones,” Charlie replied. Sam shrugged.

“Worth a shot.”

“Do you want me to let the President know? Or I could find a few minutes for you to-”

“No, no, he’s got enough to worry about. I’ll tell him when things calm down a little,” Sam said. Toby, C.J., and Josh, moving almost like a singular unit, walked towards Toby’s office.

“Sam! Get in here!” Toby shouted as they went in. Sam sighed. 

“Right. Keep me updated, guys.” He followed the other Senior Staffers. Charlie turned back to Kathy. 

“Do they know?” he said, gesturing to the office. Kathy shrugged.

“I didn’t tell them. Sam should have.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Charlie said. “Anyway, I was looking for Donna. Do you know if she’s back yet?” 

“I think she’s back at her desk by now,” Bonnie said. “Why are you looking for Donna?”

“The President wants someone to find out more on the storm,” Charlie answered. “Listen, if you could call me when there’s news on Cerulean-”

“Sure thing, Charlie.”

*

“Hey, Donna!” Donna quickly wiped her face dry as Charlie came up to her desk.

“Yeah, Charlie?” she said.

“The President wants you to go across the street and find out what you can about the storm,” Charlie said. 

“I have to get Josh’s meetings in order first.”

“It can wait til you’ve done that. Listen, have you heard about the Cerulean thing?” Charlie asked.

“Cerulean thing?” Donna repeated. “There’s a Cerulean thing?”

“I’m gonna take that as a no,” Charlie said. 

“What happened with Cerulean, Charlie?”

“Kathy just told me she’s in surgery. There was a car crash this morning, her brothers were in it too.”

“Oh my God. How bad was it?” Donna said, heart in her throat. 

“I don’t know any details. You’ll have to ask Kathy or Bonnie,” Charlie said. “I just know she’s in cardiac surgery.”

“Son of a- why can’t anything go right this week?” Donna exclaimed. “This is the second car accident in two days!”

“I know. Someone up there has got one twisted sense of humor,” Charlie said, glancing towards the sky. “But the police don’t think it was an accident. I don’t have any details, but Kathy says they’re investigating.”

*

‘No news is good news,’ Sam kept telling himself. ‘If I don’t get any news, nothing is going wrong.’

He sat with C.J., Josh, and Toby in Toby’s office. They had been quiet for the first minute or so, and finally C.J. spoke.

“We’ll call them Answer A and Answer B,” she said. 

“Yeah,” Josh said.

“‘Mr. President, does this mean you won’t be seeking a second term?’” C.J. said, pretending she were the lucky reporter to get to ask the million-dollar question. She switched gears to the President: “Answer A is ‘you bet. I will absolutely be seeking a second term. Looking forward to the campaign. There is great work yet to be done.’” Toby and Sam sat silently. Sam was still having trouble focusing, mind torn between the surgery and the nagging thought this was a ridiculous conversation to have.

“Yes,” Josh said. He really wasn’t contributing much to the conversation, which he seemed to realise as C.J. said:

“Answer B…”

“‘Are you outta your mind? I can’t possibly win the election,’” Josh answered as the President. “‘I lied about a degenerative illness, I’m the target of a grand jury investigation, and Congress is about to take me out to lunch. I’d sooner have my family take off their clothes and dance the Tarantella on the Truman Balcony than go through a campaign with this around my neck.’” Again, there was quiet. C.J. sipped from her water bottle while she thought it over. Sam personally thought it did sound like something the President would say, just not in front of the Press.

“Think that’s too on the nose?” Josh asked. C.J. nodded. 

“I do,” she said. Sam looked down, thinking once again that they really shouldn’t be having this conversation. 

“I’m going to bring it up again,” he said.

“Why?” C.J. said, exasperated. Sam’s head snapped up to look at her.

“Coz I got shouted down the first three times and I work here just like you do. Can I help you?” he bit off. There was a lot more venom in that than was probably necessary but Sam was having a really shitty day. C.J. stared at him for a moment. 

“Sorry,” she said. Sam started to pace.

“I think we have to explore ways of calling this off,” he said.

“Sam,” Toby began.

“I think it might be a mistake to send him on at a moment when we’re trying to demonstrate-”

“Listen-”

“We don’t know what they’re talking about in there, Toby! We don’t know if he’s running or not!” Sam shouted. “I think we have to-”

“There’s no way. The story’s leaked, it’s out there. We’re doing it. Don’t worry, Sam, it’s going to be fine,” Toby said. He got up from his chair and walked to the desk. “They’re lighting him from outside the window.”

Ginger opened the door and Sam’s heart stopped for a second. But she didn’t look at him. 

“Toby…” The Communications Director sighed.

“I have a meeting with Greg Summerhays, for reasons past understanding,” he grumbled. Sam took that as a cue to leave, which was fine by him. He went to Kathy’s desk.

“Anything?” Sam asked. She shook her head.

“I left some information on the procedures on your desk.” 

“Thanks.” ‘No news is good news,’ Sam thought.

“Sam!” He turned to see C.J. coming towards him. She looked more upset than she had before, which was saying something. 

“Look, C.J., I shouldn’t have-”

“In your office. Now.” She grabbed him by the shoulder and nearly dragged him into his office. There was definitely a metaphor for Sam’s current situation in there somewhere; if only he had the brainpower to figure it out. C.J. shut the door and let go of Sam. She and Sam faced each other.

“What the hell is going on?” C.J. demanded in a low voice. “I don’t care that you’re snappish, we’re all doing that. But when Ginger walked in, you looked as though you were going to have a heart attack. What’s going on?” Sam ran a hand over his face.

“Cerulean,” he said softly. “It’s Cerulean. She’s in surgery right now to repair her pulmonary artery and siphon blood out of her chest cavity.” Saying it out loud hurt; it was odd, though, he’d said it out loud this morning to Kathy, but he’d been in shock still. Now, as C.J.’s face fell, her posture tightening in fear, saying it out loud was like a sucker punch. 

“Oh, God,” C.J. breathed.

“Cerulean and her brothers were on their way to school when another car crashed into their foster father’s. The police have reason to believe this wasn’t an accident,” Sam continued. “Jason is in critical condition. The doctors don’t know if he’ll make it through the next twenty-four hours.”

“Oh, God. Sam, why didn’t you say something at Staff?” C.J. asked. “Leo nearly bit your head off!” 

“I tried. You saw, you were there!” Sam said. “Leo doesn’t care what else is going on-” 

“He doesn’t think it’s something like this!”

“How does that make it any better?” Sam asked, frustration boiling over. “Leo is perfectly content to think I’m flaky, and frankly I don’t see why I should have to prove I’m not when my track record should already do that!” 

“Okay, don’t tell Leo. Tell Toby,” C.J. said. “Or Josh, but Sam, you have to tell somebody!”

“I told you,” Sam replied. “I told you, I told Kathy. Kathy told Bonnie, Ginger, and Charlie.”

“How about someone who outranks you? Because at this rate the janitor’s gonna know before the Chief of Staff,” C.J. said. Sam sighed. She was right, as she almost always was. 

“Look, we’ve all got a lot to do today,” he began. “After the Press Conference. Once we know whether or not there’s going to be a re-election. Then I’ll tell Toby.” C.J. nodded.

“Sounds like a plan, Sam-shine.” She gave him a small, tired smile. Sam returned it as best he could. C.J. walked out of his office. Sam went to the door and looked at Kathy, who shook her head.

‘No news is good news.’

*

Leo left the Oval. As the Chief of Staff passed the desk, Charlie looked up.

“Hey, Leo.” 

“Yeah, Charlie?” Leo said, stopping.

“Did you talk to Sam at all?” Charlie asked, looking concerned. Leo resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Oh, I talked to Sam all right,” he said.

“So, you know what’s going on.” 

“Honestly, Charlie, I don’t need too many details. I have more important things to worry about,” Leo replied. Charlie seemed a little confused by that. What did he care that Sam was ditching work? Leo wondered.

“Have you told the President?” Charlie said. Leo nearly laughed.

“Charlie, don’t you think the President has enough to worry about?” he said. “I’m going to my office now. This Sam thing will take care of itself, all right, Charlie?” Leo walked away with that, mind already on the next thing he had to do.

*

The ICU was very quiet. The three adults were driven crazy by the insistent beeping, the only noise in the room when they weren’t speaking. Each of them had walked out at some point to the general waiting rooms, where there were other people talking and TVs going. One was on ZNN, which was the one Hannah checked when she walked over. Around noon or so, ZNN started talking about the President going on live tonight, followed by a press conference. Hannah was listening to the reporter say that there was no confirmed reason from the White House yet, but a senior White House official had said that there was an announcement from President. 

“Think that’s what Sam’s working on?” Christine appeared beside Hannah. The older woman turned to her, barely surprised at the sudden words.

“Yes. I imagine this is exactly what he’s working on,” Hannah said. 

“Has he said what it might be about?”

“No.” Hannah looked back at the screen. “He said earlier he couldn’t talk about it, do you remember?”

“Right. Right, I forgot,” Christine said. “My mind is a little faulty right now.” Hannah nodded. “Have you ever done anything like this before?” 

“Waiting in a hospital for a surgery to end? Or waiting for a child’s condition to stabilize?” Hannah suggested. 

“Either.”

“Not exactly. Sam went down hard with mononucleosis in his senior year of high school and had to be hospitalized, but he wasn’t in nearly as bad condition,” Hannah said. “I wish I knew how to make this easier for you.” Christine nodded. They watched the TV a little longer.

“Mrs. Seaborn?” Hannah turned to see a young windswept woman, who she recognised faintly. “My name’s Ginger. I work with Sam.”

“Oh, yes! Ginger, hello,” Hannah said. Ginger, slightly damp, held a canvas bag. She held it out to Hannah. “What’s this?”

“Well, we were talking and thought you might need things to pass the time in here,” Ginger said. “We gathered books and crosswords and sudokus, anything to keep you guys busy while you…wait.”

“That’s very kind of you, Ginger.” Hannah accepted the bag as Christine looked on. It was heavier than she expected; the women who worked in Sam’s office must have gone out of their way to collect this. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

“We wanted to do something. Cerulean’s like family,” Ginger said. “Has anything changed? I haven’t been in the office for a while, so I didn’t hear if there were any updates.” Hannah and Christine exchanged a look.

“They brought in another surgeon a few minutes ago,” Christine said. “We heard them on the PA a few minutes ago.” Ginger bit her lip.

“That’s probably not good, is it?” 

“Probably not,” Hannah agreed. “But thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.”

“How did you get in here?” Christine asked. “The ICU has a family-only policy.” 

“I told them I was Sam’s sister,” Ginger said, unabashed. “When Kathy gave them the names of Sam’s family, she put mine on the list in case we needed to get someone over here and Sam couldn’t come.”

“I’m not sure if that’s really smart or somewhat scary,” Christine remarked. Ginger shrugged. 

“It’s for Cerulean,” Hannah said. “Thank you again, Ginger, I know Sam will-”

“Mrs. Dosil? Mrs. Seaborn?” Rahma the intern approached them. “Officer Kendall is looking for you. He says there’s news he has to tell you.”

*

“A what?”

“A hit man,” Kathy repeated. Sam ran a hand over his face and quashed a desire to shoot somebody.

Kathy had grabbed Sam after he left a last-minute prep on the television address with the President and pulled him into his office. She’d gotten a call from Officer Kendall about the driver who’d hit the Dosil car. His name was James Macintosh, and he was on the FBI’s most wanted list. He was a killer for hire, according to the FBI agent now coordinating with Kendall, and there was not a doubt in any of their minds that Macintosh was their man.

“Who hires a hit man to kill kids?” Sam asked. 

“They’re trying to question him now, but Macintosh won’t cooperate,” Kathy said. “He’s invoking his Miranda rights.”

“He’s a hit man!”

“He still has rights,” Kathy replied. “But Kendall says they’re working with three options here: Thomas Barber, someone high up at Barber Inc., or Macintosh got the wrong car. Thomas Barber got convicted the other day. Barber Inc.’s shares are plummeting, so one of the shareholders or executives could have a beef. So it could have been either of those or Macintosh could have messed up. We don’t know much at the point.”

“Is there anything we do know?” Sam said. 

“We know that James ‘Big Mac’ Macintosh is responsible, and now he can’t hurt anybody else while he’s in custody,” Kathy said. Sam sighed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “Kathy, I really appreciate you helping me with all of this.”

“It’s my job, Sam,” she replied.

“I mean it, though. You ladies are literally life-savers.” Kathy gave him a soft smile.

“No problem, Sam,” she said. “Ginger went over to the hospital to give your mom and the Dosils some stuff, she should be getting an update now. You can thank her when she gets back.”

“I will, hopefully before we have to go to the Press Conference,” Sam said. “As soon as that’s over, I want to go to the hospital.”

“Will there be time? Toby said it’s going to be really busy,” Kathy said. 

“Well, that depends on what the President says about-”

“Sam.” Josh opened the door to Sam’s office. His face was drawn with defeat. “It’s Answer B.” Sam turned back to Kathy.

“Looks I might have time after all,” he said. “I’ve gotta go, I’ll see Ginger later.” Kathy nodded, looking worried. Sam followed Josh out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for Leo's actions here. He's operating under a lot of stress, and we know from previous episodes that he tends to forget there's life outside the White House. Leo has absolutely no idea what's going on, which is partially his fault, but character flaws are why we love these guys.


	4. We're In It For The Long Haul, Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The President changes his mind. Cerulean comes out of surgery. Josh finds out about the surgery. Macintosh changes his tune.

“Mr. President,” Sandy asked as cameras flashed and thunder rolled. “Can you tell us right now if you’ll be seeking a second term?” 

“I’m sorry, Sandy, there was a bit of noise there,” the President said. “Could you repeat the question?”

“Yes, sir. Can you tell us right now if you’ll be seeking a second term?” The President slid his hands off the podium, looked away from Sandy, and put his hands in his pockets. He turned back to Sandy with a small smile.

“Yeah,” he said. “And I’m gonna win.”

*

Hannah didn’t catch the rest of the Press Conference. Cerulean was brought out of surgery and moved to Jason’s room in the ICU; Hannah made it back to the room just as the nurses were setting up the various wires and machines.

Hannah had only ever seen Cerulean in the pictures the newspapers and television reporters used: cropped school photos and close ups from Christmas cards. The little girl in those smiled like the sun, all pink cheeks and sunny eyes. The little girl in the bed was almost unrecognizable in comparison. She was pale, so very pale, and still. There was a tube going into her mouth, taped to her cheeks to keep it in place.

As soon as all the equipment was set up, Zach took his chair and put it between the two beds. He placed himself firmly in it. One look at him convinced Hannah he wasn’t going anywhere. George, looking thoroughly exhausted and slightly out of it, stood next to Christine behind Zach as Hannah walked over to join them. A doctor, an Asian woman with a tight ponytail, checked the machines one last time before turning to the Dosils, Zach and Hannah.

“My name is Dr. Ung, I’ll be supervising Cerulean’s recovery,” she said. “Right now, her condition isn’t unstable, but it can and probably will fluctuate in the next twelve hours. That’s going to be our most dangerous period.”

“What are we hoping for?” Christine asked. 

“We’re hoping she regains consciousness in this period, firstly. We also want her to be able to breathe on her own, but we can’t do anything to take it out just yet. The stitching in her artery should be fine, so all we need is for her to wake up and breathe without assistance,” Dr. Ung said. “It’s probably going to be a long wait. We don’t expect any major developments for the rest of the night if you want to go home and get some rest.”

“I’m okay.” George swayed on his feet and Christine took him by the arm. 

“Oh, no. You are going home, Mister.”

“I can’t drive myself; I’m on painkillers for two broken ribs,” George said. “And we can’t leave Zach here.”

“Zach’s not staying either-”

“Like hell I’m not,” Zach interrupted.

“I’m staying. I’ll take care of Zach,” Hannah said before Christine’s own exhaustion could push her patience to its limits. “You take George home and get some rest.”

“You sure?” George asked.

“Certainly. I’m used to long hours, I can handle this,” Hannah replied. “But someone should call Sam and my phone died about an hour ago.”

“I’ll get to him,” Christine said. 

“We have a phone in the hallway you can use,” Dr. Ung said. “I’ll show you.” She gestured to the door. Christine put a hand on Zach’s shoulder and kissed his forehead. He showed no sign that he’d noticed. Christine sighed. She and George followed Dr. Ung out. 

Hannah took a seat by Cerulean’s bed. She settled in for the night ahead with one of the crossword puzzles Ginger had brought in the big canvas bag.

*

After the President’s sudden change of heart, the whole west wing ran around like decapitated chickens. They put another poll together, talked to the press, and worked out legalities. Sam was so caught up in the adrenaline-fueled haze he forgot his plan to go to the hospital. Then Kathy got a call from Christine that Cerulean was out of surgery and in the same ICU room as Jason. She told Sam at the same time she told Donna, C.J., Carol, and Charlie, who had all dropped whatever they were doing to come over when they heard there was an update. Josh walked by as they were dispersing.

“Donna, what the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. “What are any of you doing here? You all have jobs!” 

“Sam can explain that. Can’t you, Sam?” C.J. prompted. All eyes were on him, so Sam bit the bullet and nodded. 

“Walk with me.” He headed for his office and Josh followed. 

“What’s with the campfire circle at Kathy’s desk?” Josh asked. Sam grabbed the jacket off his chair.

“Cerulean just got out of surgery. There was a car crash this morning; she and her brothers were in it,” he began. Josh’s jaw dropped. “Jason’s in critical condition, Zach’s got a broken arm.”

“This morning?” Josh repeated. “This morning as in when you missed two meetings and walked in late to Staff?” 

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Josh said. “You know we love that kid.”

“We’ve had enough to worry about. Now that we’ve got a little direction, it’s not so overwhelming,” Sam said. “And she’s out of surgery now.”

“Is she awake?” Josh asked. Sam shook his head.

“We’re waiting for that. There’s a twelve hour danger period starting-” Sam looked at his watch. “-an hour ago. After that, they’ll know for sure what’s going to happen.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Josh said. Sam pulled on his jacket.

“No. There’s nothing I can do either, so don’t feel bad.” He felt Josh’s eyes on him and looked up. Josh was not only exhausted and anxious, but now there was concern etched in his face. Sam sighed. “Don’t look at me like that, Josh.”

“Look at you like what?”

“The way you’re looking at me. Stop it,” Sam said, walking towards the door. “I feel like I’m the one in the ICU.”

“Whatever way I’m looking at you, you know I’m worried about you, right?” Josh said. Sam stopped at the doorway and turned to face Josh.

“What?” he said. Josh looked mildly uncomfortable, but ploughed on.

“I’m worried about you. You’re already dealing with the whole MS thing and now Cerulean needs you, and you’re caught between the two,” he said. “So, yeah. I’m worried.”

“I know. I just didn’t expect to hear you say it out loud,” Sam replied. Josh smirked tiredly.

“I have my moments. I’ll get the rest from Kathy or Donna, you head on out.”

“All right. I’ll see you in a few hours, probably,” Sam said. “Things are gonna be okay, Josh. We’re gonna get through this.” Josh put a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Damn right we are.”

*

When Sam got back to the hospital, it was a little busier than that morning, but still fairly calm. He supposed Rosslyn was the exception, not the rule. He got a few stares as he walked to the front desk. Sam hoped desperately that he wouldn’t be recognised tonight. 

“Can I help you, sir?” the receptionist said. 

“I’m here to see Cerulean Barber, in the ICU,” Sam answered. 

“ID, please.” She held out her hand and Sam handed over the same ID he’d just used leaving the west wing. The receptionist looked at it with a raised eyebrow before returning the piece of plastic to Sam.

“You just came from the White House?” she said. Sam nodded. “Well, honey, I do not envy you tonight.” 

“Nor should you,” Sam muttered, putting the ID away again. 

“I’ll call you an escort, sir, if you’ll just wait here a moment.” The receptionist picked up the phone on her desk. Sam bit his tongue, not willing to get into a fight over whether or not he should be allowed to go to a room by himself when he already knew where it was. There were too many battles to fight and this was not the time to be pissing off hospital staff.

Someone tapped on Sam’s shoulder. He turned to see an angry young guy- who smelled rather blatantly of alcohol- standing there, glaring at him. 

“Can I help you?” Sam asked, really hoping Angry Drunk Guy would just walk away.

“You work at the White House?” Angry Drunk Guy said. Well, shit. This isn’t going to end well. Sam hesitated before replying.

“Why?”

“I don’t know where you get off-” Angry Drunk Guy jabbed an accusing finger at Sam. “- lying to us like that. You people…think you can just hide things from the public and it’s…sick! Fucking sick!” Spit splattered Sam’s face. He wiped it off with a grimace, thinking that he did not need this. 

“Sir,” Sam said calmly. “I understand that you’re upset-”

“Upset? I’m…fucking pissed!” They were starting to attract attention now, Sam noted. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Sir, I only found out about this three days ago,” Sam said, trying to be calm. “We’re all trying to process-”

“Process that the President’s a fucking liar!” Angry Drunk Guy finished for him. 

“Sir! If you don’t calm down right now, I will call security!” the receptionist said sharply.

“How ’m I s’posed to calm down when Bartlet’s a lying douchebag?” Angry Drunk Guy exclaimed.

“You can’t talk about the President like that,” Sam said. He saw the receptionist already dialing for security out of the corner of his eye. 

“’Scuse you?” Angry Drunk Guy said, head bobbing around like a startled chicken. 

“You can’t talk about the President like that,” Sam repeated. “Regardless of what he’s done, he’s still the President and you can’t refer him to him like he’s one of your frat brothers-” Angry Drunk Guy shoved Sam into the desk. Sam, exhausted and dazed, watched from the floor as Angry Drunk Guy lumbered towards him again. He regained his senses and dove out of the way as Angry Drunk Guy’s fist swung wildly. Thankfully, two burly security guards arrived and restrained Angry Drunk Guy before he could swing again.

“That’s enough, buddy,” one guard said. “You’re coming with us.”

“Don’t wanna go! Can’t…make me!” Angry Drunk Guy shouted as they dragged his ass away. The receptionist came around the desk and helped Sam to his feet.

“You all right, sir?” she asked. Sam sighed. 

“I’m having a hellish day, but I’m not hurt,” he said. 

“It’s the small victories that count,” the receptionist replied. “Matt will take you to the ICU.” She gestured and Sam looked to see another young guy, this one fairly pleasant and sober-looking, standing beside the desk. By the expression on his face, he had arrived just in time to see Angry Drunk Guy get carted off.

“All right. Thank you,” Sam said. He pulled down on his jacket in a half-hearted attempt to make it look like he hadn’t just been thrown into a desk. Then Sam followed Matt to the ICU.

*

“Thank you, Charlie, that’ll be all,” President Bartlet said as he began reading the Haitian brief. Charlie paused for a moment. Should I say something about Cerulean? I mean, he’d wanna know, but Leo said-

“What is it?” the President said, breaking Charlie’s silence.

“Sir?” Charlie replied.

“You’re standing there with a concerned look on your face after I told you to go. That usually means there’s something you want to say,” the President said, looking at Charlie over the tops of his glasses. “Go on, spit it out.”

“Leo said I shouldn’t bring it up, Mr. President. He said you had enough to worry about,” Charlie said, suddenly reluctant. He didn’t have all the facts; he only had his last few updates from Kathy, and the information was spotty.

“Because Leo knows best, huh?” the President said. “Charlie, I’ll tell you what- whatever it is you both want and don’t want to tell me, I can take. But you can wait til tomorrow to tell me if that makes you feel better. That sound good to you?” Charlie nodded. He’d hunt Kathy down in the morning and get as much information as possible.

“Yes, sir.”

*

It was nearing two in the morning. For the last four hours, a nurse had dropped by to see if Zach was asleep or willing to sleep. He proved resolutely awake, though exactly how conscious he was of his surroundings was far less clear. Hannah had the feeling Zach would be fighting the urge to sleep until he had confirmation his siblings were okay. 

The door opened. Sam entered, looking almost as bad as Zach. Hannah stood up to go to her son.

“Sam, dear, I saw the President on TV. It’s little wonder you’ve been so busy,” she began. Sam didn’t reply or even seem to hear her; his eyes were fixed on Cerulean. It occurred to Hannah rather suddenly that this was the first time he’d seen Cerulean since this all happened. “Sam? Are you all right?”

“She’s just so tiny,” Sam said softly. “God, Mom, she’s so small…” Hannah pulled Sam into a hug. He held on tightly- desperately- still staring at Cerulean.

*

James Macintosh sat in one of Metro PD’s holding cells. The short, stocky man fumed in quiet fury, mostly at himself. It should have been an easy hit. Laughably easy. Rent a truck, wait, hit the little car, drive away. Ditch the truck, get the hell outta town, and pick up the money at his usual drop-off. But the truck he’d gotten was smaller than he wanted, and he didn’t leave himself enough time in the morning to find a different one before he had to be in position. The smaller truck therefore got lodged in the car, forcing James to escape on foot. He got recognised and then he got caught. What a fuck-up. James wasn’t sure who was more to blame, the rental company or himself. 

“Hey.” James looked up to see a woman in the cell across from him. Judging by the smell and her ratty, eclectic outfit, she was either homeless or a prostitute. Maybe both. Her dark eyes were fixed on him as if she was the Death Star and he was Alderaan. 

“What?” James grunted. Instead of flinching away, her laser-like gaze ran over him.

“You the one who smashed the truck into the car this morning?”she asked. 

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” James tried to glare her down. She didn’t blink.

“I was there, you know. I was there,” the woman said, nodding vigorously. “I saw the boy, the boy, he pulled the little ones out. I watched him cry.”

“There were no kids in the car,” James replied. There wasn’t anything in the job description about kids; he didn’t do kids. Never had, never would.

“Yeah, yeah, there was. I was there,” the woman repeated. “I went to him, I stayed with him, the older boy. The younger one wasn’t moving no more, and neither was the girl. I think they dead.”

“There were no kids in the car! There weren’t supposed to be any kids in that car!” James shouted, heart starting to pound. “He didn’t say a goddamn thing about kids!”

“Who didn’t?” the woman said.

“Barber, that son of a bitch! He just told me to hit the car!” James answered. He was panicking now. “There was nothing about kids! Nothing!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all knew Thomas Barber had something to do with this. That something remains unclear, but we'll be seeing him shortly to find out.


	5. We Don't Get to Choose Who Lives and Who Dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kendall confronts Thomas. The President is suspicious about his staff's behavior. Cerulean wakes up, but that seems to be the only thing that's going right so far...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this chapter contains the minor character death mentioned in the tags. You'll see it coming. Don't worry, Thomas will get his comeuppance...

Sam was at the hospital for three hours. He tried sleeping, but the constant beeping and rushing sound of the breathing support systems kept him up. There was nothing he could do for Cerulean or Jason. All he could do was think about them and hope for the best. Hannah and Zach were with them, so they weren’t alone. Sam wished he could stay too. He couldn’t do anything but at least he would be there. Of course this was probably the busiest and most stressful point of the administration. Leo and Toby would kill Sam if he missed too much work- he was already in hot water as it was. Because they needed him to be on his A-Game now more than ever, but he just couldn’t focus. He was trying. He really was. Things just kept piling on.

Sam knew he had to go when the sun came up. Hannah had nodded off as she sat next to him, still holding his hand at comfort. Sam kissed her hand and then extricated his hand carefully so not to wake her. He stood from his seat beside Cerulean’s bed, overlooking hers and Jason’s, and bent over Cerulean. Sam carefully put a kiss on an uninjured spot on her forehead. 

“Mr. Seaborn?” Sam turned to look at Zach. The boy was as hollow-eyed as before, though Sam understood he’d said another sentence or two since the last time they’d seen each other. Someone had combed his dank curls and gotten out most of the dried blood. Probably Christine. 

“Yes, Zach?” Sam said.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Zach asked. Sam’s automatic response to that question was usually yes, whether or not that answer was actually true. But there were some people in the world you just couldn’t bullshit your way past, and Zach, despite being only twelve, was one of those people. Sam sighed.

“We’ll see,” he said. “It’s a little early for me to tell.” Zach nodded.

“I hope you are,” he said. He turned his attention back to his siblings, thus ending the conversation. Sam left after that. He thought there were worse sentiments to begin the day with.

*

Thomas Barber shared a cell with three other men. One was a small, fidgety person who was incarcerated for being a textbook kleptomaniac as well as an accidental murderer. The other two were bigger than Thomas and in for repeated aggravated assaults. Anyone might think Thomas would be intimidated by these three, but on the contrary: all of them had worked for Thomas at some point, in capacities both legal and not, and were still completely terrified by him. If his personal freedom weren’t so heavily infringed upon, Thomas would hardly mind the change in milieu.

In the morning, between watching the news to scorn the President’s idiocy and their scheduled activities, Thomas noted each of his cellmates being taken aside by some of the corrections officers. He wondered, with his mostly un-occupied mind, what they were being subjected to. Surely, it couldn’t have anything to do with Macintosh and the children; Macintosh was too skilled to make it look like anything but an accident. Even if he were brainless enough to be caught, he was certainly intelligent enough not to implicate Thomas. The disgraced tycoon might be in jail at the moment, but he was still not a man to be crossed…as his wretched daughter’s death would prove.

“Barber.” Soon, the corrections officer came over to Thomas while they were in the yard. “Come with me.” Thomas was unperturbed as he went with the officer. This wasn’t about Macintosh. He was certain.

Thomas was escorted to a conference room. The corrections officer shackled him to a chair and stood aside. After a few minutes, the door opened for a black man in a Metro PD uniform. Thomas restrained himself from raising an eyebrow in confusion and contempt.

“Hello, Mr. Barber,” the man said in a slow drawl. “I’m Officer Kendall. I’m with the Metropolitan Police.”

“Nice to meet you,” Thomas said, the insincere politeness perfected from many years of business politics. “I don’t mean to be abrupt, but what brings me the pleasure of your acquaintance?”

“Well, Mr. Barber, I’m sorry to inform you that there was a car collision yesterday and your children were in it,” Kendall said. “There haven’t been any casualties thus far, but Jason and Cerulean are both in critical condition.”

“How terrible.” She’s not dead yet. Damn, Thomas thought. And Jason isn’t even that irritating, compared to Zachary. “What about Zachary?”

“He broke his arm and has a possible concussion,” Kendall said. He gave Thomas a long, considering look. “Pardon me, sir, but you don’t seem all that troubled.” Grief and concern were always hard emotions to fake, especially for Thomas. He shrugged.

“Weeping and wailing is hardly going to help them, is it?” Thomas replied. “Thank you for informing me, Officer, but if that’s all-”

“I am not here to inform you about your children,” Kendall interrupted, genial face turning stormy. Thomas paused. “I am here because James Macintosh, the driver who hit their car, confessed this morning. He told us that you hired him.” Thomas was stunned, absolutely floored, for the second time in recent months. 

“How dare he,” Thomas breathed. “How dare he- how dare you! Accusing me of having a man kill my children-”

“You have been convicted for child abuse and child neglect. You’ve also made threats on Cerulean’s life in front of witnesses,” Kendall said. “There is not a jury in the world that wouldn’t convict you. Especially not if either of those poor kids die.”

*

Hannah had been drifting in and out of sleep for several hours. She’d noted Sam’s absence but hadn’t been awake to see him go. When she did wake, she always looked to Zach first, as several loud noises would have gotten her attention if Cerulean or Jason were in trouble. Zach rarely moved; sometimes he scratched at the skin under his cast. The two sat in relative silence between the nurses coming in to check on all the children. Nothing seemed to change for a very long time.

Loud, shrilling sound yanked Hannah into full consciousness. Cerulean’s monitors were all screaming for attention but Hannah’s focus flew to the little girl. Her eyes were open now, wide with a fearful confusion. Tiny hands batted at the respiratory tube still taped to her face and down her throat. Zach leapt up onto the bed and crawled up to her. He used his good hand to grab hers as he teetered precariously on his knees. Hannah quickly reached to balance him.

“Hey, hey, Cerule, calm down,” Zach said. “You’re okay, it’s okay. You hafta keep the tube in for another few minutes, all right? We gotta wait for the doctor. The doctor will take it out, I promise. Just a few minutes.” Zach let go of Cerulean’s hands and they fell to her sides. She didn’t try at the tube again, but tears leaked out. The monitors calmed down while Zach wiped the tears away. 

Dr. Ung and Dr. Nunez hurried in with some nurses. Zach backed away as Dr. Ung came up to Cerulean on the other side. Dr. Nunez went around Hannah to look at the monitors and the nurses hung back. Hannah helped Zach into a seated position.

“Her breathing is steady,” Nunez reported. “Removal is probably best for her heart rate.”

“Cerulean, I’m Dr. Ung. I’m going to take this tube out,” Dr. Ung said, removing the tape gently. “It might feel funny and it might hurt. On the count of three: one, two, three.” The tube came out and Cerulean made gagging sounds. “There you go. How do you feel, sweetie?” Cerulean’s response was to cry. She leaned towards Zach, who held her with one arm. 

“Well, that’s pretty normal,” Dr. Ung said. “If she can cry, her lung function is probably fine. I will be keeping a close eye on her for the next half-hour though, and we have to keep her heart rate down.”

“But she’s all right,” Hannah said. Dr. Ung nodded. 

“In all likelihood. We’re pretty much out of the woods now.” Hannah sighed in relief. She looked at Zach, who was nodding. For the first time since she’d met him, he closed his eyes. 

“Doctor.” One of the nurses grabbed Dr. Ung by the shoulder. Hannah watched as the nurse brought Dr. Ung to Jason and began whispering urgently. Hannah couldn’t hear the words being spoken under the sound of Cerulean’s tears, but she could tell they were not as positive as the ones about Cerulean.

*

Sam watched the catastrophic tailspin in the Briefing Room with absolute horror. He hurried over and ran into a similarly horrified Toby in the hallway. 

“Toby!”

“I don’t believe it,” Toby gasped, gesturing to the Briefing Room.

“You saw it?” Sam said.

“I was standing right there!” 

“He’s ‘relieved’ that he might have to send troops into battle?” Sam said. Toby turned Sam back to the direction of the Briefing Room exit and they walked towards it. “He’s ‘relieved’ he might have to put American lives at risk and kill Haitian citizens coz it might take his mind off having lied to the electorate?” As they reached the door, C.J. came out with the predatory screams of her name echoing after her. She glanced up and saw the two men coming towards her. C.J. immediately turned around to walk in the opposite direction on unsteady feet. Frankly, Sam didn’t blame her; the deflated look on her face told him and apparently Toby that she knew exactly how badly she’d just screwed up. Sam and Toby hung back.

“C.J.-” Toby’s voice was surprisingly gentle. C.J. stopped in a doorway and shouted back:

“Just! …just don’t say anything for a…just don’t say anything for a…” C.J. put a hand to her head and sighed heavily. Sam looked at Toby, then back at C.J. as she muttered something inaudible to herself. There was silence for a few moments as Sam realised this was C.J. having a full-on meltdown. It shocked him- C.J. had never lost her cool before, not like this. He was shaken out of the shock when C.J. slammed her hand into the wall. 

“Dammit!” C.J. turned towards them and walked between the two men, who were still too stunned to stop her. They said nothing as they watched her walk towards her office. Josh was heading towards her with a speed fairly impressive for someone who probably hadn’t slept in two days. C.J. got in her office before he could reach her and slammed the door behind her. 

Scowling, Josh changed direction and saw Sam and Toby. He joined them as they turned to go to the Chief of Staff. 

“Relieved? The President’s relieved to be focusing on Haiti?” Josh said, echoing Sam’s earlier disbelief.

“I was there,” Toby repeated.

“Isn’t this exactly what we said we had to be careful of?” Josh said. Leo came barreling down the hall at them. All four stopped in a circle in the hallway. Toby was biting his nails in a nervous state like Sam had rarely seen him in before and Josh rubbed his head in frustration. Sam was still stunned: C.J., unflappable C.J., had lost control of the Briefing Room and then lost control of herself. That was like two plus two not equaling four anymore, or finding out that the man you worked for, the real thing, had been concealing a degenerative illness. 

“What happened?” Leo demanded. 

“She was asked if the President’s situation makes it harder for him to focus on Haiti,” Josh began.

“There was a ramp-up,” Sam interjected, wits coming back to him.

“There was a ramp-up, but she was asked-”

“What did she say?” Leo said.

“She said that the President is relieved to be focusing on something that matters,” Josh said finally.

“Relieved?” Leo repeated. He turned, the literal embodiment of the word fuming, and walked back to his office while shaking his head. Sam, Toby, and Josh followed.

“We can argue that, uh, she just misspoke,” Toby suggested.

“She meant to say that the President realises he’s focusing on something that matters,” Josh said.

“Or that the President is reiterating that his focus is on something that-”

“I don’t like ‘something that matters’ like finding out that the President lied doesn’t matter,” Sam interrupted. He was ignored- how surprising- as they walked into Leo’s office. Leo slammed the door between his office and the Oval.

“She misspoke is all we need,” Toby said. “We go back, we say she misspoke.” Leo slammed the main door of the office. Josh flinched. Leo turned back to the other three men with barely contained rage.

“What if he has to invade?” he shouted. “If he invades Haiti after-” Leo pointed to the Oval. “It’s gonna look like he ordered a military operation to cover up-”

“She goes back. She says she misspoke,” Toby continued, as if repeating the phrase would magically make it true. Leo went back to his desk. Sam noted that Josh looked particularly uncomfortable with Leo’s anger.

“C.J. doesn’t misspeak!” Leo declared. 

“She just did,” Josh said quietly. 

“If she misspoke, why didn’t she just clean it up in the Briefing Room? I mean, come to think of it, why didn’t she just clean it up in the Briefing Room?” Leo demanded. 

“She actually is tired, Leo, we all are,” Sam said.

“Well, why don’t we just go with that, Sam?” Leo replied sardonically. “Let’s go out and say we’re all tired. The President’s tired. Complications due to MS.” Goddamnit, why does Leo have to twist my words like that? Sam was only trying to defend C.J. to his boss and now he’s the idiot. He tried to maintain an even tone as he said:

“We haven’t had much time-”

“You had a week! How much more time did you need?” Leo snapped.

“Some of us had more time than others!” Sam shot back, temper rising. Leo stopped for a moment, staring coldly at Sam.

“And some of us have been leaving the office as it suits us,” Leo said. “I really don’t think you of all people should be complaining about having less time, Sam.”

“Leo-” Josh faltered as Leo gave him a silencing glare.

“I’ve tried to tell you where I was-”

“And I told you I didn’t care,” Leo interrupted. “And I still don’t. You know why? Because you serve at the pleasure of the President. That comes before everything else, do you get that?”

“Not everything,” Sam answered. Leo gave him another long cold look. Then the older man crossed his office and opened the door.

“Margaret! Is he alone?” Margaret appeared in the doorway.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Sam, Kathy brought you this.” She walked in as Leo walked out and shakily held out a piece of paper. Sam took it to find scrawled in hurried Kathy handwriting:

Hospital. NOW. 

She’s awake.

*

Toby had never seen Sam fight with Leo. Sure, he’d heard about their dispute over Cerulean a few months back, but this was…different. According to Charlie, that argument had been loud and heated. This time, neither Sam nor Leo raised their voices as the intensity climbed skyward. It was very, very disturbing to watch. Toby understood where Leo was coming from, even if he didn’t agree with his boss, but what the hell was Sam thinking?

Toby watched his deputy unfurl the scrap of paper. Sam tensed for a half-second, then his whole being relaxed like a colossal weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He shoved the paper at Josh as he made for the door.

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Sam, are you nuts?” Toby said. He followed Sam out, as the younger man showed no sign of stopping or slowing down. “After what just happened? Leo will fire you!”

“So?” Sam kept going and Toby gave up on the chase. Sam has lost his mind. C.J. lost control of the Press Room and now Sam has lost his mind. Who’s next, Josh?

“Toby!” If I’ve just jinxed him, I will shoot myself. Toby turned to face Josh, who was catching up to him.

“Josh, everyone is losing their minds,” he said.

“Sam hasn’t lost his mind,” Josh replied.

“Are you sure? Because when Leo finds out Sam’s gone again- for the third time- he will take Sam’s head off!” Toby exclaimed.

“No, he won’t.” Josh brushed off Toby’s panicked prediction. It was then Toby noticed that Josh, who had been incredibly tense since this whole debacle started, seemed weirdly relaxed too, if only slightly. Toby looked at him for a moment before remembering the scrap of paper Sam had gotten.

“Josh,” Toby said slowly. “What was on that paper?” Josh paused. “Is there something else going on that I don’t know about?”

“Um…possibly?” Josh said finally. Toby sighed.

“Is it anything imminently threatening? Like a motion for impeachment or a call for a vote of-”

“No! Jeez, Toby, don’t say those things when people can hear you!” Josh said. “No, everything is fine now. Sam just has to take care of a thing. See, there was-”

“Then I don’t wanna know. Not now, not yet. I’ll ask Sam later,” Toby said. “Just try to get him back before Leo notices he’s gone.”

*

Teleporting, Sam thought as he walked through the hospital with Officer Kendall, could not have gotten me here fast enough. 

Kendall had met Sam on his way in. He told Sam everything they’d learned from Macintosh, including that the hit man hadn’t known there would be kids in the car, which was why he’d confessed so thoroughly. At this point, even though Sam didn’t think it was all that likely, he didn’t even care if he got fired. He just wanted to see Cerulean.

His wish was granted soon, though much later than if he’d had a teleport. Sam and Kendall walked in Cerulean and Jason’s room. Hannah was carefully perched on one side of Cerulean’s bed with a colorful children’s book. Cerulean was sitting up- sort of- to look at the pictures while Hannah read. Zach was at Cerulean’s feet, staring at Cerulean with a bemused half-smile. When the three heard the door open, they all turned to the door- well, Cerulean turned her head. She couldn’t move much else without displacing some wires, or so it looked.

“Daddy!” Cerulean’s voice was slightly hoarse but it was the most beautiful sound Sam had ever heard. He was at her side in an instant, navigating wires to get as close to her as possible. Cerulean put the arm not attached to IVs over Sam’s chest and her hand curled around the fabric of his shirt.

“Hey, how are you feeling, kiddo?” Sam said.

“Everything hurts,” Cerulean answered. “Why does everything hurt?” 

“The car crashed, Cerule. You had to have surgery,” Zach said. 

“But you’re okay now. The doctors took care of you,” Hannah added. Sam looked over to her on the other side of Cerulean. Hannah shrugged. “She keep asking and we keep telling her. Dr. Ung said to just answer her.”

“Okay,” Sam said. Cerulean, instead responding to the answers she had been given, buried her face in Sam’s two day shirt.

“Well, it seems this little one is all right,” Kendall said. Sam had forgotten the man had walked in with him. “Is there anything else I can do for y’all? Otherwise I’ll be taking my leave.”

“I want Fred,” Cerulean muttered in Sam’s shirt.

“What was that?” Kendall said.

“She wants her teddy bear,” Sam said. Zach made a face Cerulean thankfully could not see. “There may not be anything you can do about that.” Kendall shrugged.

“I’ll go find out. You never know with these things.” He left with that. Cerulean lifted her face from Sam’s shirt.

“They had a tube in my mouth,” she said. “I didn’t like it.”

“Doesn’t sound like fun,” Sam replied. The expressions on Zach’s and Hannah’s faces seemed to say it wasn’t fun for any of them.

“Zach said it was helpin. I still didn’t like it.” She put her face back in his shirt.

“He’s right, you know.” Sam turned to Zach. “Feeling better?”

“A little.” Zach glanced to his right, towards Jason. Sam nodded.

“Any word?”

“No,” Zach said, scowling. “I’m not eighteen, they won’t tell me anything.”

“Maybe I could-”

“No, sweetie, I tried. We aren’t technically allowed access to his medical information because we’re not legally related,” Hannah said. “We’ll have to wait for Christine and George.”

“They’re not here?”

“They’re on their way. Keep in mind, Sam, George broke two ribs. Moving quickly can’t be easy,” Hannah said. 

“George doesn’t move quickly when he doesn’t have broken bones,” Zach said. “How long are you gonna be here?”

“At least as long as it takes for the doctor to tell me what happens now,” Sam said. “Then I really have to get back to the office.” Before Leo kills me. 

“I wanna go,” Cerulean said, resurfacing again.

“You have to stay here, Cerule, you’re still getting better,” Sam said.

“But I wanna go see everybody. I haven’t seen Aunt C.J. or Uncle Toby or Uncle Josh in forever,” Cerulean said. Sam winced, knowing that if he hadn’t seen Cerulean in three days, it had been much longer for everyone else.

“I’m sorry, but it’s gonna be a little longer,” Sam said. Cerulean sighed and put her face back in Sam’s shirt. Sam gingerly put set a hand on her head. “Just a little while longer, all right?”

“All right.”

*

Charlie, Carol, Margaret, and Donna were huddled around Bonnie’s desk, getting the latest update.

“So she’s going to be okay?” Donna said tentatively.

“The doctor seems to think so,” Bonnie said. “She said we’re out of the woods.” There was a collective sigh of relief.

“This is gonna make C.J. feel so much better,” Carol muttered. 

“It’s making me feel a lot better,” Margaret said. “We should do something. Get her balloons or a nice bouquet.”

“I’m not sure how much she’s going to appreciate a bouquet. She is six,” Charlie said. Margaret looked down, lips in a pout. Charlie sighed. “Sorry, Margaret. I think balloons would be great.” 

“No, you’re right. Balloons are better,” Margaret said. She became contemplative. “Maybe a balloon bouquet…”

“Who knows about this?” Donna asked. “I mean, Josh mentioned it to me, so he knows, but I don’t know that Toby does.”

“He doesn’t. He hasn’t asked any of us for updates and if he knew he’d be asking every time he walked by,” Bonnie said.

“Leo definitely doesn’t know,” Margaret said. “You should have heard him and Sam in his office earlier. I thought I was gonna have to report a homicide.”

“Wait, Leo doesn’t know?” Charlie repeated. “Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely certain,” Margaret said. “I only found out this morning, otherwise I would have told him.”

“I asked him if he knew about the Sam thing and he said he did,” Charlie said. “Is there another Sam thing?”

“I think he meant that Sam keeps leaving,” Margaret said.

“And he didn’t think to ask why?” Charlie said. Margaret shrugged.

“C.J. said that Sam tried telling them all what was going on, but Leo stopped him,” Carol replied. “No one’s running on all cylinders right now. Everyone is ready to be pissed at whoever is in the vicinity.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Charlie said. “Except I have to tell the President, and I already said that Leo told me not to tell him. Now I’m finding out me and Leo were talking two different things.”

“Oh, shoot,” Donna said, eyes widening as she realised the severity of that. “Can’t you just tell the President that?”

“How well do you think he’s gonna take Leo telling Sam he doesn’t care what’s going on, when what’s going on is Cerulean in surgery?” Charlie said. The women around him gave each other looks that said what Charlie was thinking:

The President is going to lose it.

*

Christine and George were being led to Cerulean and Jason’s room in the ICU by Rahma, the same sweet intern from yesterday. On the way, they were approached by a nurse with wavy brown hair and a somewhat familiar smile.

“Excuse me, are you the Barbers’ foster parents?” she asked, bypassing Rahma entirely. In her hands, she held a large paper bag marked ‘evidence.’ 

“Yes. Why?” Christine replied. 

“The police dropped this off for Cerulean Barber,” the nurse said, holding out the bag. “They said it was from the car, it belongs to her.” Christine took the bag. From the size and heft of it, she was sure it was Fred the Bear. She was mildly surprised the police had gone to the effort to get it back to Cerulean. Christine was definitely going to need to make sure Fred was in decent condition before Cerulean did get it. 

“Thank you,” George said. The nurse smiled.

“Best wishes to the kids.” She walked away. When she was safely out of earshot, Rahma tutted in irritation.

“What?” George said.

“Nothing,” Rahma said, voice belying her words.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Christine replied.

“It’s just that the police are supposed to go through the doctors assigned to the patients if they have anything relevant to those patients,” Rahma said. “Then again, new nurses can be very pushy. She may have been insistent on taking it herself.”

“Is she new?” Christine said.

“Must be. I’ve been working here a whole year and I’ve never seen her around,” Rahma said. Christine and George exchanged a look. Her husband seemed to write it off as weird; Christine was more suspicious. She opened the bag. The teddy bear appeared absolutely normal. In fact, it looked almost new.

When they reached the ICU room, Christine pulled Rahma aside.

“Track down that nurse for me, would you?” she said quietly. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Rahma said, nodding.

“Thanks.” Christine went into the room and saw it was starting to get crowded. Cerulean, somewhat upright, was listening to Sam as he explained MS to Zach. Sam sat as close to Cerulean as he could, with her half on top of him. Zach was at the end of the bed, dividing his attention between Sam and Jason. Hannah was setting up some cards, bright ones, where both children would be able to see them- once they were both awake, that was. George had just finished saying hello to her and walked to stand by Zach.

“Hey, guys, how you doing?” he asked. 

“Fine,” Zach said.

“Everything hurts,” Cerulean said in a matter of fact tone.

“That’s not good.”

“Maybe this will help,” Christine said. She may not have trusted that nurse, but the bear was harmless. She handed to the bag to Sam, who held it out to Cerulean to open. She had a little trouble, but he helped her pull Fred out. Cerulean’s eyes lit up.

“Ooh! Fred!” Cerulean squeezed the bear close with a smile. The others in the room relaxed.

“Well, that was fast,” Hannah remarked.

“Really fast,” Sam added.

“What?” George said. 

“Officer Kendall said he’d look into getting Fred back less than a half-hour ago,” Sam answered. 

“That is fast,” George agreed. Christine’s suspicion deepened and it wasn’t alleviated by Zach studying the bear as closely as he could with it being wrapped in Cerulean’s arms. 

“Are you sure that’s Fred?” Zach said. 

“Of course it’s Fred,” Cerulean said. “It looks just like him.”

“Yeah, okay.” Zach sounded thoroughly unconvinced. “I’m just pretty sure Fred got stuck in the car.”

“The police are the ones who sent him over, they must have gotten him out,” George said.

“And washed him? He totally wasn’t that color when I saw him last-”

“Let it go, Zach,” George replied. “You’re going to upset your sister.” Zach looked at Christine mutinously. She personally agreed that the whole bear thing was suspicious, but after eyeing the various monitors attached to Cerulean, she sighed.

“George is right. Let it go for now.” Zach scowled, but obeyed. 

“Did you guys see the doctor on your way in?” Sam asked, changing the subject. “I hate to go, but I will have to soon.”

“I imagine you do,” Christine said. “She should be here shortly-” Christine was cut short by a blaring, flat noise from the other side of the room. Their heads all snapped to look at Jason, his monitors are cutting to straight horizontal lines. Christine and George both grabbed Zach as he made to lunge for his brother. Dr. Ung and the nurses came rushing in past Hannah and surrounded Jason.

“Let me go!” Zach screamed.

“What’s that noise? Make it stop!” Cerulean cried, her own monitors spiking. Sam covered her ears in hopes of dulling the noise. 

“I need a shot of adrenaline,” Dr. Ung said. “Nadia, in his IV now.” Christine could see Dr. Ung’s shoulders go up and down as she applied CPR. Zach continued to struggle against George and Christine’s hold.

“Zach, calm down! You can’t do anything, you’ll just be in the way!” Christine said. “Stop fighting me!”

“Adrenaline’s not doing it. Get the AED,” Dr. Ung said. A nurse went to the box on the wall and took out the device. George turned to Sam, who had Cerulean’s face pressed into his side.

“We’re taking Zach outside. You got her?” George said. Sam nodded, keeping his hands firmly clamped over Cerulean’s ears. George and Christine dragged Zach out of the room as the sound of the defibrillator was briefly audible over the blaring monitors.

“Lemme go! Lemme go!” Zach’s cast swung dangerously close to George’s broken ribs. Christine pulled Zach away from her husband and faced him. The boy’s face was wild with fear and desperation.

“Zach! Zach! Stop it!” Christine said. “You are not helping Jason by freaking out! All you are doing is scaring Cerulean! You need to calm down!” 

“But I have to take care of him!” Zach’s eyes were streaming now. “He’s my little brother, I’m supposed to take care of him!”

“There is nothing you can do right now. You have to let the doctor do her job,” Christine said. Zach stopped fighting her. His shoulders slumped. Christine pulled him into a hug, as tight as she could without displacing or squeezing the cast. “Just hang in there, buddy.”

The sound from inside the room had been coming out into the hall, however quietly. There were some words from Dr. Ung and the flat beep finally stopped. Christine, Zach, and George held their breath waiting for the regular rhythm of the monitors to resume, out of sync with Cerulean’s. 

It didn’t. 

Zach collapsed against Christine with a muffled sob. George closed his eyes and put his face in his hands. Christine could hear Cerulean asking inside:

“Daddy, why won’t he wake up? He can just wake up, can’t he? Daddy?”

*

Jed was starting to- actually, he was already annoyed- but he was starting to get annoyed about something new. See, Charlie had let on last night that something was up, something that was seriously worrying him. Since, the President had noticed Margaret and Kathy talking in hushed voices outside Leo’s voice, Carol and Donna passing papers in the hall, and Ginger hurrying around with far-away concern in her eyes. Something was rotten in Denmark, more than just a Haitian military coup and MS.

The Senior Staff filed into the Oval for the first time since the Briefing Room disaster. C.J. studiously avoided eye contact with everyone else. Leo was pissed as hell, but he’d been like that for days. Josh looked exhausted, but mildly relieved for some unknown reason. Toby was also exhausted like Josh but avoiding eye contact like C.J. too. Sam was the last to walk in and the sight of him made Jed’s mouth drop open. Leo looked around at the Staff before saying:

“Mr. President, I was thinking we need to address the unfortunate gaffe this morning-”

“In a moment, Leo,” Jed said, regaining himself. C.J. looked up cautiously.

“Sir?” Leo said. 

“Charlie said to me last night that something was going on, something that was bothering him,” Jed began. Sam closed his eyes and Jed knew Sam knew what he was talking about. “I said he could tell me today. He hasn’t yet, because I’ve been taking care of Haiti, but I’m not blind and I’m not stupid.” Leo looked surprised.

“Sir, I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying,” Josh said, seeming to be speaking for himself, Leo, and Toby. C.J. glanced at Sam, who just waited for Jed to answer Josh.

“I’m talking about Charlie jumping a foot in the air when the phone rings. I’m talking about Margaret running to Kathy every half-hour. I’m talking about papers being passed from Bonnie’s desk to Donna’s desk to Carol’s to Charlie’s and then to Margaret’s. I’m talking about Sam walking in here looking like he just got hit by a truck!” Sam winced. “Did you? Did you get hit by a truck, Sam?”

“No, Mr. President. I have not been hit by a truck,” Sam replied.

“Although it’s kinda funny you chose that phrase, sir,” Josh said. Sam and C.J. turned to him with wide-eyed incredulity. He immediately flushed in shame. “I meant funny as in odd or coincidental, not ha-ha funny.”

“Coincidental?” Jed repeated. “Someone was actually hit by a truck?”

“A car with people in it was hit by a truck,” Josh said. “But yeah, actually someone was hit by a truck.”

“When?” Leo asked. He was just as if not more surprised than Jed. “And why didn’t I know about this?”

“Yesterday morning, shortly before 8:30,” Sam said. That time struck a significance with Leo and Toby if their expressions were any indication. “I got a phone call from Officer Kendall from Metro that George Dosil’s car had been rammed by a truck.”

“George Dosil?” Toby said, color draining out of his face.

“Who’s George Dosil?” Jed said.

“Cerulean’s foster father,” C.J. said, her voice slightly raw. Jed’s throat clenched.

“Cerulean?”

“She’s all right now, sir,” Josh said. “Sam was just with her. Right?”

“Yeah.” Jed turned to Leo. His Chief of Staff’s expression was not one Jed saw often, but he knew what it meant; it was the same expression he’d made when Jenny filed for divorce.

“And you didn’t know about this?” Jed said. Leo shook his head.

“Sam, I owe you an apology,” he said. Sam shrugged. “No, really, I behaved like an ass.”

“Maybe later.”

“We’re going to be having words, Leo, but for now I want to know more about Cerulean,” Jed said. “You said she’s all right now. What about yesterday?”

“She was in surgery most of yesterday,” C.J. said. Sam nodded.

“They were repairing the pulmonary artery and siphoning blood out of the places it wasn’t supposed to be,” he said. “She was on a respirator for a while after that, but she woke up this morning and the doctor said that she should recover just fine. We just need to keep her heart rate down and since everything hurts, she isn’t going to be doing much that would risk it.”

“Oh, thank God,” Jed said with a sigh of relief. “What about the boys? How’s Zach?”

“He has a broken arm and a concussion. He and George were on the other side of the car,” Sam said.

“Good. What about…what was the younger one’s name?” Jed said.

“Jason,” Toby said quietly. “The younger brother is Jason.”

“Yes, Jason, how’s he?” Jed asked. Sam hesitated.

“He’s…he suffered catastrophic damage to most of his major organs. The doctors did what they could,” he said. “He hung on for a while, but…” Sam trailed off, eyes far away. Nobody spoke for a moment.

“Sam,” C.J. said. “Tell me you and Cerulean weren’t there.”

“We all were,” Sam said. “Nobody could see anything, but we were there.” Jed’s shoulders slumped. That was possibly the worst news he’d had all day.

“I’m gonna kill that guy,” Josh muttered. 

“Josh-”

“No, seriously, I am! I’m gonna go down Petersburg and kick that self-righteous son of a-”

“Hang on, they already moved the driver to Petersburg?” Toby said. “I thought they started at administrative facilities, not the correctional facilities.”

“Josh is talking about Thomas Barber,” C.J. said. “He hired the driver.” It took Jed, Leo, and Toby a moment to process the enormity of that sentence. Their reaction was simultaneous and almost identical.

“That son of a-”

“That absolute piece of-”

“That’s it! I’m sending that bastard to Guantanamo!”


	6. Surprises Abound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaret and Carol hatch a plan. Thomas is interrogated. Leo and the President have their conversation and someone is in places they shouldn't be...

“Seriously, though, how’d Macintosh know where to be?” Josh asked. He stood in the bullpen with Kathy, Bonnie, and Ginger. They gave him everything that Metro had given them about James Macintosh and Thomas Barber so he could brief Leo and the President. Sam had been relieved of that particular duty after he told them about Jason.

“He is a hit man, Josh. He probably stalked them a while,” Bonnie said. 

“He had maybe 24 hours between the hire and the hit. That’s not enough time to be sure of where they’re gonna be at a certain time,” Josh said.

“Have you been reading spy novels again?” Ginger asked. Josh scowled but his answer was preempted by Margaret and Carol entering the bullpen with a big, loud plastic bag.

“Guys! We had the best idea!” Carol said. 

“What is it?” Kathy said, eyeing the bag. 

“Well, we were at lunch and we were thinking what we should do for Cerulean. You said the ICU doesn’t allow flowers or balloons, and we don’t know how long she’s gonna be there-”

“We found a giant card for Cerulean,” Carol said, summing up Margaret’s characteristically lengthy retelling. “Everyone can write something for her on it.”

“You do know she can’t read, right?” Josh said. 

“Cerulean can read,” Ginger said.

“Not our handwriting. She can read neat things, maybe, but not our handwriting.”

“Are you saying you won’t sign it?” Margaret said, peeved.

“No, I’ll sign it,” Josh answered quickly. “Just saying, she won’t be reading it on her own.”

“That’s why it’s pretty too,” Carol said. She reached into the bag Margaret was holding to pull out the card. It was the biggest card Josh had ever seen, the front of it covered in huge sparkly flowers and butterflies. Just looking at it made Josh feel like he’d been blindsided by Titania and Oberon.

“It’s so cute!” Ginger exclaimed.

“What the hell is that?” Toby came into the bullpen, looking with some revulsion at the card.

“Get-well card for Cerulean,” Bonnie said.

“We want everyone to sign it,” Margaret said. “You can even leave a message if you want.”

“Don’t you people have jobs?”

“If you don’t want to sign it-”

“No, no, I will sign it,” Toby interrupted. “Give me some time to come up with something good. Ginger, I’ll be in my office.” He retreated to his own space. Margaret and Carol exchanged smug looks. 

“Who wants to go first?” Carol said. “Kathy? You’ve been the most in touch with everything.”

“Going first is more pressure than I want right now,” Kathy replied. 

“I’m okay with pressure, I could go first,” Bonnie said. 

“Well, now that we’ve sorted that out, I gotta go,” Josh said. “I want that card to come my way later.”

“Sure thing,” Carol said, putting the card on Bonnie’s desk. 

“We got a bunch of really nice pens too, Bonnie, pick a color,” Margaret said. She rifled through the bag as Josh walked away. 

Josh was still bothered by the Macintosh thing though. How did the ‘Big Mac’ know what time the Barbers went to school? Moreover, how did he know the route?

Eh, he’d get his answer sooner or later.

*

The morgue at George Washington University Hospital was quiet. Not one living being was inside at the moment; the coroner had finished with the newest arrival and taken the report to Metro Police, leaving only the corpses. The yellow lights were dim and hummed, the only low sound in the space. It was a morbid sort of peacefulness. 

The door opened, breaking the static quiet. A woman with wavy brown hair entered. She pushed the door open, the creaking of its hinge the only sound to be heard over the humming. The woman’s feet made no sound as she crossed the room to the wall of freezers. 

The low light made the woman’s pale skin look ghostly, like she was a spirit wandering through the morgue. Looking at her clothing, however, one would assume she was a nurse. She wore the scrubs ubiquitous to hospitals, sensible shoes, and a nametag. But her soundless movements and almost martial air suggested otherwise. There was also the matter of her being in the morgue with no apparent reason to be there. She carried no files and ignored the coroner’s desk entirely as she scanned the wall of freezers.

The woman found the door she was looking for and unlatched it. She pulled the tray out. The body was clearly a child. In the poor light, his skin was white as snow and the features on the left, unmarked side of his face could have been made of porcelain. Aside from the awful wounds marring the entire right side of his body, he looked doll-like. He also closely resembled the woman standing over him. She laid a gentle hand on his left cheek.

“Oh, Jason,” she whispered. “You deserved so much more than this.” Lifting her hand from his face, she pulled a lock of his sandy hair away from the rest. The woman sheared the lock off with a small but very sharp knife and put the lock in a tiny plastic bag. Then she rolled the tray back, shutting the door behind it. The knife and the bag with the hair disappeared back into her pockets. The woman walked to the door and disappeared from the morgue, which looked as though she’d never been there in the first place.

*

The President and Leo came back from the Situation Room after a briefing on Bazan and the evacuation. There was a moment of quiet as Jed sorted through the papers on his desk and Leo hesitated.

“Sir, if you won’t be needing me, I have to-”

“No, Leo, it’s time for that conversation we put off,” Jed said. Leo nodded.

“I was afraid you were gonna say that,” he said with a sigh. “Mr. President, I screwed up with Sam. I screwed up big time.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I shouldn’t have cut him off so quickly. I wasn’t thinking that it was anything other than him being pissy on his high horse, and I stopped him from telling me- from telling any of us- about Cerulean or the crash,” Leo continued. “So he was dealing with it on his own, with all the prep for last night.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think about it. I just didn’t, sir. And then this morning, he was snapping back at me and there was a moment where for a second I thought maybe there was something else,” Leo said, looking especially culpable. “There was a moment. But I brushed it off. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Jed said. Leo turned to him, no small amount of confusion on his face.

“Sir, I’m not sure what you want from me. You’re agreeing with everything I say, and it’s kinda freaking me out.” Jed lifted his head to look Leo in the eye.

“Do you want me to scream at you?” he said. “Do you want me to yell and call you a moron? Because I could, you know, I could just tear you a new one, right here, right now, Leo.”

“I’m more than a little surprised you’re not currently doing that, Mr. President,” Leo replied. “You like Cerulean. You like her a lot. And you’re very protective of the people who work for you.” Jed nodded.

“Both of those things are true.”

“So…why aren’t you tearing me a new one, sir?” Leo asked.

“Because it’s not going to fix anything. You already know you made a mistake. You know you need to apologize, and I’m sure you will, when you get the chance. I don’t need to convince you of any of that,” Jed said. “Screaming at you isn’t going to help Cerulean get better and it’s certainly not going to bring back Jason. We’ve got work to do and you don’t need me yelling at you.”

“I suppose it’s not, sir,” Leo replied, looking mildly suspicious. “Next time I see Sam, I’ll talk to him about this.”

“Great. Good talk,” Jed said. “You can go now.” Leo turned toward the door to his office. Halfway there, he stopped and faced the President again.

“Sir, is this reason you’re not screaming at me because you already shouted at Justice about Barber and he’s getting moved to Guantanamo?” Leo asked. Jed hesitated.

“Not Guantanamo, but I have been assured that he will be very unhappy,” he replied. Leo smirked. “He’s lucky he’s not being executed tomorrow. I was merciful.” 

“Yes, you were, sir. Shoulda heard Toby earlier,” Leo said. “He wanted to resurrect some medieval executions. What do you think of having Barber drawn and quartered?” Jed slammed the folder in his hand shut.

“Now, there’s an idea! I’ve got some horses back in New Hampshire, let’s do it.”

*

That is not Fred, Zach thought as Cerulean curled up beside him. That is a different bear.

The bear in Cerulean’s embrace was the same kind as Fred. A stranger wouldn’t have marked them as separate toys, but Zach could tell. Fred was almost as old as Jason was. Fred had matted fur that had dulled from a shiny golden brown to just plain tan and a spot on his nose where the felt had rubbed off. His eyes were all scratched up from being dragged across floors. This bear was brand-new, with un-matted fur and pristine features. Fred had been a gift from Cousin Will to Jason a long time ago. Cousin Will had come over once for dinner with gifts for Jeremy, Zach, and Jason. Cerulean hadn’t been born yet; Jason was very little. Jeremy and Zach had gotten handmade wooden toys, a puppet and a racecar. Jason got the bear. Dad had sneered at the bags the toys had come in- ‘quaint,’ he’d called it as if it were an insult. Cousin Will had shrugged and said he thought the little store had quality stuff. 

Jason had never liked the damn bear, but when Cerulean was born and Cousin Will sent the pink blanket, he’d loved that. He kept taking it, being three and having no concept of theft, and leaving Fred in its place. Baby Cerulean used to stare at Fred for hours and then hold him in a death grip. So Mom, being no idiot, had made the switch. When Zach asked if Cousin Will was mad, she’d smiled. Her smile looked exactly like Cerulean and Jason’s smiles. ‘As long as they’re happy,’ she’d said. ‘That’s our job, you know, keeping them happy.’ Zach had remembered that. It was his main concern now. That’s why he was bugging out over this new bear.

The thing that really bothered Zach was that Fred was from that stupidly small mom-and-pop store. No stranger should have been able to find the store, let alone get a bear exactly the same as Fred. The way Zach figured, they’d either have to talk to Cousin Will, who didn’t talk to anyone, or they’d have tracked the bear for a stupidly long amount of time, longer than it took to get the guy who caused the car crash. 

There was a third option. Zach wasn’t sure he liked that option. That option was very unlikely, he thought, because that option involved someone Zach was sure Dad had killed, directly or indirectly, and had tossed in the Potomac to hide the evidence. There’s just no way, Zach thought, that Mom could be involved in this.  
Right?

*

It took a special kind of interrogator to crack Thomas Barber. Dozens had tried and only one had gotten any results. Eugene Kendall had used every favor he had to get that one back from an assignment in Minnesota. He knew that he had to make sure there was nothing else in store for the Barber kids, even before he’d been notified that Jason Barber was dead. 

Kendall stood outside the interrogation room with every scrap of evidence he had in an unfortunately small file. Thomas Barber was on the other side of the glass, looking bored. He was good at that whole ‘nonchalant façade’ thing. Kendall had been in law enforcement his whole adult life and he’d never met anyone as calm and collected as Thomas Barber.

The door on Kendall’s side of the glass opened. He looked up from his file to see a tall black woman with a curly braid walk in. She wore a gray suit clean enough to have been bought yesterday that fit her like a glove. Her spectacles were the same forest green as her blouse and the gaze of the dark eyes behind them was sharper than broken glass.

“Officer Kendall?” she said. “I’m Billie Penkett.” Kendall blinked.

“Thank you for coming.” He held out his hand to shake. Penkett took it with a firm grip that impressed Kendall. “I must apologize- I thought Billie Penkett was a man.” Penkett smiled tightly.

“I get that frequently,” she replied. “You don’t seem shaken. Or in disbelief.”

“No, I’m not either. It only makes sense in retrospect that a woman would be the one to crack this piece of shit,” Kendall said, jerking his thumb at the glass. “I find that men like him always underestimate women- to their downfall.”

“That’s what I thought the first time I sat down with him,” Penkett said. “It’s a little more complicated than that, unfortunately, but I can take a stab at him again.” She turned to look at Barber fully. The set of her mouth was the only thing that changed with her focus. “What do you want from him?”

“You read the file?” Kendall asked. Penkett nodded.

“On my flight. I heard two of the kids were in critical condition.”

“Cerulean is being moved out of the ICU tonight. Jason died a few hours ago,” Kendall said. Penkett’s jaw worked.

“I hate this man,” she said quietly. “I really do, Officer. I know I can work him but nobody turns my stomach the way he does.”

“Well, he don’t know that, and that’s where your advantage is,” Kendall said. 

“It is.” Penkett turned to Kendall again and he saw in her eyes years and years of putting up a stoic face while clawing up from a desk jockey to the most fearsome interrogator the U.S. government had ever seen. She was the best because she had been forged by hellfire and brimstone raining on her from the moment she decided she would not be ignored.

“What do you want from him?” she asked again.

“I want to know how he set up the hit. How’d he know where and when the kids were gonna be all together,” Kendall said. “And I want to be a 110% certain he’s not gonna try again.”

“He hasn’t been talking to any killers-for-hire,” Penkett said. 

“He’s got other people who could set this up and I got a feeling-” Kendall realised how ridiculous that must have sounded. “I have a hunch Jason isn’t the one he most wanted dead.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Penkett said, looking back at Barber. “He never cared much for Jason, but Jason’s not the one who brought down his empire by skipping into the White House. His biggest problem with Jason was the pink blanket.”

“Pink blanket? What the hell’s wrong with a pink blanket?” Kendall said.

“Thought it would turn the boy gay,” Penkett said. “Not too fond of homosexuals, Thomas…which makes me three things he despises.” She smirked before turning to the door. “Let’s see what he’s got in that evil little brain of his.” Penkett took the file from Kendall and walked out of the room. Kendall smirked. 

What a woman, he thought as she entered the interrogation room. I hope my girls are like her when they grow up.  
Barber, upon seeing Penkett, gave a small smile. That threw Kendall a little, but not Penkett.

“Hello, Billie.”

“Hello, Thomas.” Penkett took her seat across from Thomas. She put the file down and folded her hands on top of it. “I wish I could say it was nice to see you, but given that you’ve added to your resume-”

“Oh, Billie, please,” Barber interrupted. “Can’t we even talk about you for a moment? I feel like we’re always talking about me. What’s new in your life?”

“I visited Paris,” Penkett replied.

“With anyone special?”

“My mother.” Barber winced.

“See, Paris is for lovers. You should have brought someone who knows how to have fun,” he said. Penkett shrugged.

“We had a good time,” she said. “You’ve been busy too, Thomas. You put a hit on your kids.”

“So everyone believes.” Barber rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know that it was my former assistant Robert who was actually stated in Macintosh’s confession as the hirer.”

“And you’re telling me you had nothing to do with that,” Penkett said. Barber pouted. 

“I’m shocked you think so little of me, Billie. Shocked. After all we’ve been through.”

“Thomas, you have threatened Cerulean’s life multiple times in front of multiple witnesses,” Penkett said. “Do you really expect anyone to believe that this wasn’t your idea?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Barber replied. Penkett gave him a look before continuing.

“Really, Thomas? You’re going to lie to me? After all we’ve been through?” 

“It wasn’t my idea, really,” Barber insisted. Kendall rolled his eyes. “I may or may not have had something to do with it, but it was not my idea.”

“Who else hates Cerulean that much? Or Zachary? Or Jason?” Penkett said. “You don’t even hate Jason all that much.”

“I don’t, not really,” Barber agreed. “But there is someone who does. Someone who hates all three of them with a fervor and all three will testify to that…should they survive, of course.” He shrugged with an unconcerned expression. Kendall didn’t quite believe that Barber had nothing to do with the hit, but Penkett seemed to be going with it.

“Of course,” Penkett said. “And this someone is the one who came up with the idea to kill them?”

“Oh, more than that,” Barber said. “He not only came up with the idea to kill them, he came up with the how, the when and the where. He’d been dwelling on it for months, since he passed the same way every morning at the same time they did.” Barber smiled. “A little public and visible for my taste, but works all the same.”

“And you didn’t have anything to do with it?” Penkett asked. 

“I may have passed along his thoughts but I never suspected Robert would actually do something so stupid…” Barber laughed in disbelief, shaking his head. “It’s ridiculous to think that idiot used to work for me, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Penkett agreed. Kendall was unsure what she was doing- it had to have been Barber. Sure, he was spinning a good yarn here, but who else could have ordered this?

“I mean, really,” Barber chuckled. “Who listens to the ramblings of a thirteen-year-old?” Kendall froze. Surely, he didn’t mean-

“You did,” Penkett said. 

“I’m his father, I have to listen to him whine.” Barber sighed. “Honestly, when my son- any of my sons- gets an idea in his teeth, he doesn’t let go. It was more of my complaining to Robert that Jeremy would not stop talking about faking a car accident to kill the others.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten points to whoever guesses where Cousin Will is from.


	7. You've Gotta Be Kidding Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mystery Woman's identity is revealed while the White House is informed who put out the hit. Plans and promises are made.

“I want to go to the ICU.”

“I can’t get you in there.” Sam and C.J. walked to the Communications bullpen. As they did, Sam saw Margaret and Carol scurrying away while staying extremely close together. He brushed it off as C.J. became insistent.

“I know there’s a family only policy-”

“Which barely applied to me and my mother, by the way,” Sam interrupted.

“Yeah, but I’m Aunt C.J. I’m family too,” C.J. said.

“Not legally.” Sam dropped some files off on Bonnie’s desk. “Anything new?”

“Kendall thinks he’ll have confirmation soon. He’s coming by in a half-hour,” Bonnie said.

“Great.”

“Sam, you’re the one that said legality doesn’t matter when it comes to family,” C.J. said, following Sam to his office.

“It does when it comes to the ICU. Seriously, C.J., she’ll be moved out of the ICU in a few hours, can’t you wait til then?” Sam asked.

“In a few hours I have another round of ‘Who’s more of a screw-up, C.J. or C.J.?’” C.J. replied. Sam winced. “Yeah, so I was hoping to see her before that.”

“Have Kathy call the hospital again, see if they’ve decided on a time for certain,” Sam said. “Maybe they’re moving it up.” 

“Can’t you like sign something that says I can go in?” C.J. asked.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t,” Sam said, going to his desk. “I’m not really up to speed on the law of the ICU, but have Kathy call them anyway.”

“Sam?” Sam and C.J. turned to see Toby at the door. 

“Could I, uh, talk to you for a second?” Toby said.

“Yeah. C.J., you’ll tell Kathy?” Sam said. C.J. nodded, eyeing Toby as she left. Toby walked into the office and shut the door. He stood in front of Sam with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at the younger man’s shoes instead of his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“I…I think I owe you an apology,” Toby said, finally meeting Sam’s eyes. “You tried to tell me what was going on with Cerulean and I shouted you down. I’m sorry.”

“Look, Toby-”

“No, I scolded you for missing work and not being focused instead of asking if you were all right! I’ve worked with you for years now, Sam! I should be able to tell the difference between you being annoyed with what we’re doing and you actually-” Toby sighed, calming down, and then he spoke at a lower volume. “You’re my friend, Sam. I should have realised something was wrong.”

“It’s been a hell of a week, Toby,” Sam said. “I don’t blame you for any of what’s going on. I don’t. And I could have tried to tell you again.”

“Please don’t make excuses for me, Sam. Just accept my apology,” Toby said. Sam blew a breath out his nose. He really didn’t want apologies, though he appreciated Toby coming to him with one. Sam just wanted Cerulean to not be in the hospital and not be thinking about her dead brother.

“Okay, apology accepted,” he said. 

“Okay.” Toby uncrossed his arms. “How’s she- how is Cerulean doing?” 

“Well, if you asked her, Cerulean would tell you everything hurts,” Sam replied. “That’s normal, according to the doctor. They’re trying to find a stronger painkiller that doesn’t increase the risk of bleeding and is kid-safe.”

“That’s good, I guess. And, uh…I’m guessing she’s not okay with the Jason thing?”

“No. She keeps asking why he doesn’t just wake up,” Sam said. “I don’t think she’s ever really experienced losing someone before. Her mom left when she was so little she doesn’t remember it.”

“Yeah, that’s probably normal too,” Toby said. “You should have somebody talk to her. And Zach.”

“You know anybody who’s lost a sibling?” Sam said. Toby shrugged. 

“Nobody who’s told me,” he replied. “Josh lost his dad, might be close enough.”

“Might be,” Sam said. “You should talk to her, too.”

“Me?” Toby looked shocked. “Why me?”

“Because you and she have a- a really strong relationship. I don’t know why, but you’re both happier after seeing each other,” Sam said. “The two of you are thick as thieves. She’ll feel better when she sees you. She actually asked for you.”

“She…asked for…me?” Toby repeated.

“Of course she did. She asked for you, she asked for C.J., she asked for Josh,” Sam said. “By name, each of you.” Toby nodded slowly.

“I don’t know much about kids,” he said, “and I didn’t think we were any closer than she was with anyone else.”

“You two get each other like nobody else. And I don’t begrudge you that,” Sam replied. 

“You don’t?” Toby looked at Sam like the latter was crazy. “You’re the one adopting her.”

“Yeah, but I can’t be the only one she’s close with, and she totally likes me best,” Sam said. Toby laughed, the first time Sam had heard him do so in a long time. Sam smiled. We’re gonna make it through this, he thought.

We’re gonna be okay.

*

Christine sent Hannah to Sam’s apartment a few hours back to get some sleep. She and George stayed with Cerulean and Zach. The former was being monitored less closely than she had been, but the nurses were still checking in every so often. Zach passed out shortly after telling George to call someone named Cousin Will. He was sitting with Cerulean when exhaustion finally won over and she refused to move her head from his chest. Christine and George sat in chairs beside Cerulean’s bed.

“So,” Christine said. “Who’s this Cousin Will?”

“Well, I assume he’s a cousin,” George said. “I think CPS mentioned him- they didn’t think he was suited to raise children.”

“Okay, so why does Zach want you to call him?” Christine said. “He’s never mentioned Cousin Will before.”

“Cousin Will has a lotta dogs,” Cerulean contributed quietly. “They were nice.”

“Was he nice?” George asked.

“Yeah.” Cerulean buried her face in Fred. George sighed. 

“All right. I’ll call CPS after she gets moved, figure out what the deal with Cousin Will is,” he said. 

“Maybe he has something to do with the whole bear nonsense,” Christine suggested. There was a soft knock on the door. Christine looked up to see Rahma in the doorway. The young woman looked very nervous and wrung her hands as she stood outside the room.

“Um, hi. I- I looked into that thing you asked me to look into,” Rahma said. 

“Thanks. You wanna come in and tell me what you found out?” Christine replied. 

“I’m not supposed to go into the rooms in the ICU. Legally, interns aren’t allowed to,” Rahma said. Christine got out of her chair and walked out of the room. George was mildly confused, but he stayed with the kids. Christine met Rahma in the hall.

“So what did you find out about that nurse?” she asked.

“She’s not a nurse,” Rahma said. 

“Is she a doctor?”

“No, she doesn’t work here. She doesn’t work with any of our sister hospitals, she’s not one of the visiting doctors, she’s not a surgeon affiliated with the hospital,” Rahma said. She bit her lip. “My supervisor has called the police.”

“Are you-” Christine calmed herself down as several nurses turned to glare at her. “Are you saying someone broke into the hospital to give Cerulean a teddy bear?” Rahma spread her hands.

“Apparently? No one else remembers seeing her,” she said. “Security is really annoyed-”

“They’re annoyed?” Christine repeated in disbelief.

“Annoyed might be the wrong word,” Rahma said. “Perhaps…embarrassed, or distressed. They have protocols in place to prevent this kind of thing, but someone appears to have gotten around them.”

“Clearly.” Christine glanced back at the room. There was no easy way to pry Fred from Cerulean on a normal day- it’d be hell to get it off her now. “Do they think the bear might be dangerous?”

“Nobody knows. If nothing’s happened so far-” Rahma was interrupted by Dr. Ung hurrying over to them. 

“Mrs. Dosil, I just heard. Officer Kendall is being informed right now,” she said. “I’ve been asked to do a preliminary examination on the bear and on Cerulean.”

“You’re going to have a hard time getting her to let go of it,” Christine replied. Dr. Ung nodded.

“I understand, but I’ve been working in pediatrics for a while. I’ve picked up some tricks.” She turned to Rahma. “You can come in, I’ll write a note if anyone has an issue.” She strode into the room, catching George’s attention. 

“Is everything all right?” he asked. 

“Just fine, Mr. Dosil. It’s been brought to my attention that Fred hasn’t been examined since the crash,” Dr. Ung said as she walked towards the bed. Cerulean lifted her head.

“What?” 

“Fred might have been hurt. We should make sure he’s all right,” Dr. Ung said. Cerulean sat up.

“I don’t know any bear doctors,” she said, brow scrunching in worry. If Christine weren’t terrified something was wrong with the bear, she’d think this was cute. 

“Lucky for you, I am a doctor for bears as well as for kids,” Dr. Ung said with a smile. “If you’d let me take him for a moment, I can check him out.” She held out her hand. Cerulean put Fred’s arm in Dr. Ung’s hand. Christine suppressed a sigh of relief. 

Dr. Ung took Fred to the table of medical supplies. She gave the bear a quick sniff before taking a q-tip from the supplies. Dr. Ung ran the q-tip down the fur on the front, then did the back with another q-tip. Rahma came over and sealed the q-tips in plastic bags as Dr. Ung prodded every inch of Fred. She seemed to be looking for tears, which she did not apparently find. Every limb, the tail, the torso, and the head were squeezed. Dr. Ung squinted at the shiny black eyes and the felt-covered nose. 

“Well, he seems perfectly fine,” she declared. “We might check him out again later, but you can have him back for now.” She brought Fred back to Cerulean. The little girl took the bear back and squished him close again. 

“My Fred.”

“You’re sure it’s all right?” Christine asked.

“I think we need to wait for the swabs to come back before we say for certain,” Dr. Ung said. “Rahma, take those down to be tested. I’m going to call Officer Kendall’s office and Mr. Seaborn.” She looked at the bed. “Has Zach been shoving his face against the bear?”

“No, he just hadn’t slept for 27 hours,” George said. “Why are we worried about the bear?” 

“It’s that nurse,” Christine said quietly. “I’ll tell you later.” She glanced at Cerulean, who was watching them all intently. Actually, she was just looking at Rahma, who looked mildly uncomfortable.

“You’re pretty,” Cerulean said. Rahma relaxed. “Your hat is my favorite color.”

“Sweetie, that’s not a hat,” Christine said, slightly embarrassed. Rahma laughed. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s not so bad, really. I’m going to take these down, but thank you, Cerulean.” Rahma left, waving at Cerulean as she did. Cerulean turned to Christine, eyes wide. 

“How did she know my name? How did the pretty girl know my name?”

*

“And they’re pretty sure they’re gonna nail Barber in court,” Josh was saying to the President as they stood in the Oval Office. Leo had an emergency call come in just as Josh arrived, and they started without him. 

“Good. You know, we were saying it’s a shame we can’t have him drawn and quartered,” the President said. 

“Is that the one where you tie the arms and legs to like four horses-”

“Four horses going in different directions, yeah. I only have three back in New Hampshire, otherwise I’d have somebody just do it,” the President said. 

“The name makes you think it’s gonna be so neat, but it sounds like it’s actually really messy,” Josh remarked. 

“Yes, it probably is. I actually haven’t seen one,” the President said. 

“That’s…comforting, sir.” The door to the Oval opened and Charlie leaned in.

“Sir, Sam’s here with Officer Kendall and Agent Penkett. They have news about Thomas Barber,” he said. 

“Really? I’ve got time for that, don’t I?” the President said.

“You’ve got a few minutes. Should I send them in?” 

“Yeah, Charlie, bring ‘em in.” Charlie nodded. He stepped aside to allow Sam in. Sam led in an older black man in a Metro uniform- Officer Kendall, Josh assumed- and a tall black woman in a very nice suit- Agent Penkett. She was, Josh noted, really hot and kinda scary at the same time. Like Wonder Woman, he thought.

“Officer Kendall, Agent Penkett, President Bartlet and Josh Lyman. Mr. President, this is Officer Eugene Kendall and Agent Billie Penkett,” Sam said. “They were coming to my office to update me, but since you were with Josh anyway, I thought you might appreciate them talking to you.” 

“You thought right. Thank you for coming.” The President shook hands with both of the visitors, who seemed mildly uncomfortable.

“It was no problem, Mr. President,” Officer Kendall said in a slow drawl. “We felt it was best to come tell Mr. Seaborn what we’d found out.” Josh did not like the sound of that. 

“And you’re Agent Penkett. I understand you’re the Barber-whisperer,” the President said. Penkett nodded.

“I do have that dubious honor, sir.”

“I always forget which agency you belong to,” the President said. 

“You have a lot to remember, sir,” Penkett replied. “Little things sliding is quite understandable.” The President looked at Penkett like he wasn’t sure whether to be impressed by her or annoyed with her. He shrugged.

“I guess so. Now, tell me, what did you get out of Barber this time?” he asked. Penkett’s mouth tightened. 

“Well, sir, Thomas Barber is a very complicated man,” she said. “Very few people understand how his mind works. If he commits a crime and wants to get away with it, he will pin it on an underling. That’s how he got away with much of his illegal activity.”

“All right, so who’d he pin it on?” Josh said. Penkett considered her next words carefully.

“Barber told me that his former assistant was the one to hire James Macintosh,” she said. “He admitted that he passed on the details of what Macintosh did, but he claims he didn’t think it would be taken as serious instruction.”

“Do you believe that?” the President said. 

“I believe him when he says he did not come up with the idea,” Penkett said. That was news to Sam, judging by the look on his face. The President seemed confused. Josh got a sickening feeling he was about to have his earlier question answered.

“If he didn’t come up with the idea, who did?” he said. 

“Sir, I would like to extradite Jeremy Barber back from Ireland,” Penkett said. “He was sent there two days ago upon his father’s conviction, and he, according to Thomas, thought of the idea to stage a car accident to kill his siblings.”

“You’re kidding,” the President said.

“I am afraid she isn’t, Mr. President,” Kendall replied grimly. “I was observing the interrogation, and Thomas Barber said exactly that.”

“The boy is thirteen, for God’s sake!” the President exclaimed. The door between the Oval and Leo’s office opened. Leo walked in.

“Sorry I’m late. What I have missed?” he asked.

“Apparently Jeremy Barber is as twisted as his father,” Josh replied. “This makes sense. Their schools are right by each other, he probably would have passed the others on his way to school every day.”

“Hang on, Jeremy Barber put out the hit?” Leo said.

“Inadvertently, it would seem,” Kendall said.

“With respect, officer, I don’t think so,” Penkett said. “From all accounts, Jeremy is a mini-Thomas. When he told his father of his ideas, if that’s what you want to call them, he most likely had every reason to believe Thomas would act on them.” 

“Sam, what do you think?” The President turned to Sam, who had been silent since the conversation started. Sam shrugged, still slightly stunned.

“The first and only time I met Jeremy, he tried to break Cerulean’s arm because she turned in Thomas,” he said. “It’s not uncharacteristic, I guess, though it is still pretty shocking.” The President nodded. 

“Sir, I gotta say we’re gonna have a hard time convincing the U.K. to give him back,” Josh said. “I mean, even if we can convince them a kid who’s barely old enough to grow facial hair cooked up a murder plot, they’re not gonna let us take him.”

“Why not?” Kendall asked. 

“Because he’d be tried in Virginia,” Josh said.

“And he’d be tried as an adult, and probably sentenced to life in prison if not the death penalty,” Leo added. 

“The U.K.’s not exactly fond of the death penalty,” Penkett said. “I’m aware of that, but I’d like to try. Failing that, I want to go speak to him.”

“Do you have the jurisdiction to do that?” the President said. 

“I can get it, sir,” Penkett replied. Josh had the sudden feeling Penkett could get jurisdiction on pretty much anything. Leo stared at her for a moment.

“What agency are you from?” he said. Penkett glanced at Kendall, Sam, and Josh.

“I’m afraid I can’t say, sir. But I can get what I need to talk to Jeremy Barber.” Well, I’m officially scared of this woman, Josh thought.

“We’ll see what we can do to get you there,” the President said. “Thanks for coming into to talk to us, Agent Penkett.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. President,” Penkett said. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.” She nodded at them and walked out of the Oval Office. Josh turned to Kendall.

“Wow,” was all Josh could manage. Kendall nodded. 

“I know. I’m lucky to have gotten her here,” he said. “I’m afraid I have to leave as well, Mr. President- I got a call on the way over that there’s some sort of to-do at the hospital.”

“You go on, Officer, thank you too for coming,” the President said. “Sam, Josh, walk him out, would you?”

“Yes, sir.” Josh, Sam, and Kendall left the Oval as Leo began talking to the President about Haiti. Sam turned to Kendall.

“What did they say was going on at the hospital?” Sam asked. Kendall shrugged, walking out of the Oval’s reception area.

“Something about a toy and a cousin? I’m heading over there now, if you want to swing by.”

“I can’t right now, but I’m going later,” Sam said. 

“What have you got, Paulsen?” Josh said. Sam shook his head.

“Babbish. Can’t really skip, since I missed yesterday,” he replied. Josh nodded.

“Right. I’d take it for you, but-”

“But Babbish would skin me,” Sam said. “Officer Kendall, have they changed the move time?”

“They were moving her as of twenty minutes ago, if I heard the message right,” Kendall answered.

“Do you mind taking Josh with you?” Sam said. Josh glanced at his friend. He hadn’t said he wanted to go, but he really desperately did want to go see Cerulean. And he did have some free time. 

“Of course not, Mr. Seaborn. Mr. Lyman, if you’ll follow me out to my car.” Kendall gestured to one side of the hall when Sam was going for the other. Josh looked at Sam.

“If you could tell Donna where I’ve gone, I’ll come see you when I get back,” he said. Sam nodded. 

“Take care of her for me.”

“Actually, I was planning on taking her bungee-jumping off Niagara Falls. Is that off the table?” Josh replied. Sam chuckled and walked away. Josh followed Kendall out of the building.

*

After his interrogation with Billie Penkett, Thomas was put in isolation. There was no punishment he loathed more than isolation. He would never display that, of course, but the mere thought of isolation sent ice through his veins. 

Thomas thrived on the presence of other people. With someone else in the room, there was something to play with, something to study and mold and use. One never got bored when there was someone else beside you. Isolation was boring, but terrifyingly boring. All that one had was their own head, their thoughts and fears and insecurities creeping ever closer to the forefront of the mind, threatening to conquer rational thought. Even Thomas, a man who was not afraid of anyone, had things in his head that scared him. He could hold them off for a while, but isolation seemed to last forever and he could only hold them back so long.

As Thomas was fighting off the darkness from the recesses of his mind, the door to the isolation cell opened. Surprised, he lifted his head to look up from his seated position on the floor. Before him in the white light of a cell was a woman dressed all in black. Her wavy brown hair was tied in a braid that sat on her shoulder and her wide eyes regarded him coolly as she shut the door.

“Anna?” Thomas stiffened in surprise. He tried to regain his composure. “Are we finally trying for conjugal visits now?”

“Don’t be smart, it doesn’t suit you,” Anna replied. “Did you forget, Thomas, what I said the last time I saw you?” Thomas shrugged. He saw the door behind her was slightly ajar and a thought occurred to him. Thomas stood as he answered.

“It’s been a long time, sweetheart, and so much has happened. Like your little bitch of a daughter getting me arrested-” Thomas charged at Anna. Something quick and hard jammed into his crotch, eliciting a yelp. Thomas bounced off Anna’s knee to land on the hard floor. He curled up in a primal response to the pain. Like a fucking child, he thought angrily. A shadow came over Thomas and there was a sharp point at his throat.

“Just like last time,” Anna said, her voice as calm as when she’d entered. “Maybe this will help you remember?” Thomas glared up at Anna. Her blue eyes were icy, just like the emotionless stares she’d given him on their wedding day over a perfect fake smile.

“You wouldn’t face me last time,” he growled through gritted teeth.

“I was afraid of you then,” Anna said. “I’m not afraid anymore, Thomas. Now I know how pathetic and stupid you are.” She smirked at him. The smirk did not reach her eyes. “So, remind me, what did I tell you last time?”

“I’m not sure. It has been nearly five years-” The point at his throat broke the skin ever so slightly.

“I said don’t touch my children,” Anna said. “I said, if you hurt my children, I will come for you. And what did you do? You did exactly that.”

“So now you’re going to kill me, dear?” Thomas asked calmly. He was not unafraid of death, no, the idea did scare him, but if she killed him now, they would very likely catch her…and he’d be out of damned isolation.

“No.” The knife disappeared from his throat and Anna stood over him. “That would be almost a relief, wouldn’t it, dear? Too quick for you, though you always were fairly quick, come to think of it.” The smirk became more pronounced. Thomas scoffed.

“Like you’d known anything different, you frigid bitch.”

“I’m going to punish you, Thomas,” Anna said as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “You’ll be in prison for the rest of your life. I’m making sure of it. Solitary confinement, I should think, until the day you die.” The smirk turned into a smile, a genuine one that reached her cold eyes. Thomas felt his heart stop. 

“You’re bluffing. You can’t make that happen.”

“Oh, now, sweetheart, I can do whatever I want. And you had my son killed, so now I will do whatever I want.” Anna slid the knife back into a pocket. Thomas pushed himself onto his knees. Kill me, he thought. Just kill me, anything but solitary.

“He used to cry for you,” Thomas said as Anna made to leave. She froze mid-turn and he knew he had her. “For years, I heard his stupid little voice at night, all tears and snot.” Thomas forced his voice into a pathetic little squeak. “‘Mommy? Where’s Mommy? Zachie, where did Mommy go? When is she coming back? Was I bad?’” Anna turned and Thomas lunged at her legs. Her foot caught him square in the nose and he flew backwards into the opposite wall. Thomas felt blood drip from his nostrils.

“Fuck you.” Anna’s voice was hushed and raw. “Fuck you, Thomas, you stupid little animal. If you ever try to touch Zachary or Cerulean again, I’ll rip your fucking tongue out.” Thomas looked up as she opened the door again. Her wide blue eyes met his brown ones and a jolt of fear went through as she said:

“I’ll be watching you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry if you're confused about Anna. You're supposed to be.


	8. Things Get Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo and Sam have a talk. Zach comes to realise some things. And everyone is still confused about Anna Barber

The recovery room was much more pleasant than the ICU. The walls were a soothing shade of pink lined with dark blue. There were toys stacked neatly on a shelf and a television on the wall. Only one bed was in it, but there were several chairs and a window seat for visitors. The window looked out onto a garden full of colors and let the sunshine pour in. 

Zach perched on the window seat while the nurses set up all Cerulean’s monitors. Christine stood nearby them and George sat next to Zach. He kept a hand on Zach’s good shoulder. George didn’t talk much and Zach didn’t feel much like talking. But the hand on his shoulder was mildly comforting. 

“Well, Cerulean, you’re all set,” one of the nurses said. “Is there anything we can get you?”

“I want my daddy,” Cerulean said. That threw Zach for a loop. He had never heard her say that before- who the hell would ask for Thomas when he was such a jerk? But since she had started calling Sam Daddy, Zach supposed he’d be hearing it more often.

“I want my daddy. He’s workin’ but he said he’d come back soon,” Cerulean continued. The nurse who spoke nodded.

“I’m sure he will. In the meantime, one of us will be right outside at the desk if you need anything. The remote’s by your brother, and there’s plenty of games and movies on the shelf with the toys,” she said. “Dr. Ung will be here to check on you soon.” The nurses filed out. Christine sat next to Cerulean’s bed.

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” Christine asked.

“Everything hurts. I want Daddy,” Cerulean said again.

“I know. But he’s working right now,” Christine said. Patiently, Zach noted. Christine could be kinda impatient at times, but now she wasn’t.

“He can’t work forever,” Cerulean replied. Zach smirked. That was quite true. Before Christine could respond, Dr. Ung walked into the room. 

“Hello, everyone. Are we all settled in?” she asked. 

“Seems so,” Christine said. 

“I want Daddy.”

“Well, I don’t have a daddy, but I think there’s an uncle here to see you,” Dr. Ung said with a small smile. She turned and gestured to someone outside the door. Officer Kendall and another guy that Zach recognised from the White House walked in. Cerulean’s eyes lit up.

“Uncle Josh!” The guy smiled tiredly. 

“Hey, kiddo. Good to see you.” He walked over as Cerulean threw her arms wide. Moving around the wires, Josh hugged Cerulean. Zach watched him closely. Josh seemed incredibly relieved to be able hold Cerulean. Zach approved of that. 

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Cerulean muttered into Josh’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, kiddo.” Dr. Ung motioned to Christine to follow her and Officer Kendall. Zach watched them leave the room. He heard one of them mention Fred. I knew it. 

Josh tried, as the hug ended, to move to one of the chairs, but Cerulean would not let go. 

“Just sit with her,” Zach advised. Josh was a little surprised by the instruction but listened. Cerulean burrowed in close to him. Zach was hit with the sudden realization that Sam wasn’t the only person who Cerulean now had for family. How many people did she chatter about when she came home from White House visits? More than had ever been in their family, Zach knew. There was a future filled with family waiting for Cerulean outside this hospital. It looked like a nice one. 

“You must be Zach,” Josh said. Zach moved his eyes from Cerulean to Josh. The man was not exceptionally good-looking or big, but rather kind of average. He seemed at least as exhausted as Sam had last time Zach had seen him, but the relief Zach had seen on his face made the exhaustion a little less obvious. From what Zach knew about the White House, you had to be pretty smart, and according to Cerulean, this guy was higher up on the food chain than most. He was either smart or conniving or both.

“And you’re Josh.” Zach probably didn’t need to analyze the guy so much, but it was an old habit.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Josh said. He gave George a nod. “Mr. Dosil.”

“Call me George.”

“Sure thing. You guys doing okay?” Josh asked. “We can get you things if you need them, just say the word.” We. It must be nice to have a group of people to fall back on.

“We’re all right right now,” George replied when Zach and Cerulean didn’t answer. “We’ve got Kathy’s number if that changes.” Josh nodded.

“I can leave my office number too. Listen, I don’t wanna start anything, but what’s going on outside?” Josh said, tipping his head towards the door. Zach caught a glimmer of concern in the man’s eye that he did an excellent job of otherwise concealing. George hesitated before answering.

“Someone impersonated a nurse to get something to the kids. They’re trying to figure out who it was and what they wanted,” he said. Josh’s hand tightened on Cerulean’s shoulder as he thought that over. 

“Okay. Any sign of them since?” 

“Nope. Only three of us saw her. No one else remembers her at all,” George said. That was new information to Zach. Nobody had said it was a her. That made the third option all the more likely, impossible as it was otherwise. But it couldn’t be Mom, it just couldn’t. Mom wouldn’t have come by and not seen them. Mom wouldn’t have left them if she didn’t have to. Mom didn’t leave. That’s not what happened because she wouldn’t have left them to Dad like this. 

“You didn’t happen to recognize her, did you?” Josh asked, clearly not expecting a yes. George’s jaw tightened.

“No,” he lied. Zach got a sinking feeling in his stomach. He would bet good money George was thinking the woman looked like Jason. Zach gritted his teeth and turned his gaze to the floor. 

“George.” Christine’s voice came from the door. “We need you out here.” Zach saw George’s feet cross the floor and join Christine’s outside. 

“What are they talking ‘bout, Uncle Josh?” Cerulean asked. 

“I don’t know, kiddo,” Josh said. “But I wanted to talk to you about something. Only if you want to talk about it, though. If you don’t want to talk about it, you can just say, ‘Uncle Josh, you’re super-lame, please shut up.’” He laughed nervously at himself. Zach was curious after that, listening but not looking up yet.

“But you’re not super-lame, Uncle Josh,” Cerulean said.

“I know, I’m awesome, but that’s what you say if you want me to shut up,” Josh replied. 

“Okay…” Cerulean was clearly having her doubts about this conversation, but she plowed on. “Whaddya wanna talk about?”

“Well, uh…I wanted to tell you that, um…when I was little, I had a sister named Joanie.” That got Zach to look up. Josh’s face was hesitant and his eyes were far away. 

“She…she died in a fire a long time ago. I just thought you should know…in case you needed to talk to somebody. Either of you.” Josh glanced at Zach. Zach nodded, unable to say anything. Cerulean squeezed not-Fred.

“Uncle Josh?” she said. Josh looked down at her.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Super-lame.” Cerulean buried her face in Josh’s shirt. Josh nodded.

“Got it. Shutting up now.”

*

“Leo, Sam’s here.” Margaret interrupted Leo’s train of thought and he looked up.

“Thanks, Margaret. Send him in.” Margaret nodded and went back out to her desk. Leo stood. He moved some papers on his desk as Sam walked in. The tension that grew when Leo looked up at Sam was palpable. Sam had his hands shoved in his pockets.

“You wanted to see me?” he said. 

“Yeah, I wanted to say…” Leo sighed. “Look, Sam, I’ve been hard on you the past few months. I’ve been really hard on you this week, which wasn’t fair.”

“Leo-”

“I shouldn’t have said the things I did yesterday. Or the things this morning. Especially the things this morning,” Leo said. “I’m supposed to be looking out for you, Sam.”

“I can look out for myself,” Sam said, more as a statement than an argument.

“I know you can, but I shouldn’t be the one making your life harder,” Leo replied. “I’m sorry, Sam. I really, really am. I should have listened to you.” Sam nodded.

“I understand why you acted the way you did, Leo. You’ve been doing a lot under a lot of pressure. And…I might have made it more complicated by being hostile,” he admitted, taking his hands out of his pockets.

“Yeah, you were the one being too hostile,” Leo said with a scoff. Sam laughed. “Seriously, you only got hostile when I directly accused you of slacking off. I woulda ripped somebody’s head off by then.”

“I was thinking about it,” Sam said. “If I hadn’t gotten word that Cerulean was asking for me, the next person to piss me off might have been very unlucky.”

“I don’t blame you. How’s she doing?” Leo asked. Sam shrugged.

“Everything seems to be going well. She’s in recovery, they’ve moved her out of the ICU, and they just need to find a stronger kid-safe painkiller,” he said. “The biggest problem is Jason, I think.”

“Yeah, yeah, that makes sense,” Leo agreed. “You should have Josh talk to her.”

“He’s there now. He went with Officer Kendall.”

“What’s Metro want at the hospital?” 

“I don’t know, something about a toy and a cousin,” Sam said. “I’ll get an update if it’s anything important.”

“Right, right. And your mom’s there with Cerulean?” Leo asked.

“She was. Christine, the foster mom, sent her to my place to sleep for a while, but I don’t imagine she’ll sleep long,” Sam said. “Luckily, she gets along pretty well with the Dosils and Zach, they won’t mind her being around.” He stopped, his eyes focusing on something behind Leo.

“What?”

“There’s something glittery enough to belong to RuPaul on your desk. I didn’t really think glitter is your style,” Sam said. Leo turned to see the card was slightly visible on his desk.

“Oh, yeah, that. That’s not mine,” Leo said, trying to fight the slight embarrassment. “Margaret and Carol have been having everybody sign this card to give to Cerulean. It’s my turn.” Sam’s mouth fell open.

“You’re signing the card?”

“Yeah, I wanna sign it. It’s a nice thing for a little girl,” Leo said. “But, uh, it’s supposed to be a surprise for you too. Do you mind pretending you don’t know about it?” It took a moment, but Sam smiled.

“Yeah, yeah, I can act surprised,” he said. “This is…this is incredible.”

“We may be a bunch of screw-ups, but we can do some things right,” Leo replied. Sam’s smile deepened and he nodded. Before he could answer, the door to the Oval Office opened and the President came in. “Sir?”

“Leo, I heard about the card. It is not leaving the building before Abbey and I sign it,” the President declared. Leo looked at Sam, who was doing nothing to hide his smile. Leo turned to the President.

“You can have it when I’m done with it, sir. I promise it won’t leave the building before you get it.”

*

C.J. didn’t have the briefing she expected that afternoon, so she went to the hospital. As she was coming in, Josh was going out. They didn’t say anything- C.J. nodded at him and Josh saluted her. C.J.’s arrival was met with Cerulean shouting her name. The little girl would not let go of C.J. once she got hold of her. Zach watched with the barest hint of a smile. The Dosils were not in the room, surprisingly, but a nurse said they would be back shortly.

“Cerulean…Cerulean, sweetie, you have to let go,” C.J. said, trying not to laugh or cry at Cerulean’s refusal to stop hugging her.

“Why?” Cerulean asked. “Uncle Josh didn’t make me let go.”

“Uncle Josh didn’t bring you girly stuff for nice braids and pretty nails, did he?” C.J. said. Cerulean looked up at her with a very serious expression and shook her head.

“Nuh-uh. No girly stuff.” 

“Right. And I’ll need to be able to reach your hands and your hair.”

“You can still reach my hair,” Cerulean said. C.J. smiled. 

“That’s true. I’ll do your hair first and then you’ll let go so I can do your nails, deal?” she said. Cerulean appeared to think it over, then buried her face in C.J.’s side.

“Deal,” was her muffled reply. C.J. gave Zach a glance over Cerulean’s head. The boy shrugged as well as he could with the sling.

“I think it’s the new painkiller,” he said.

“Whether it is or isn’t, she’s easier to deal with than Josh was when he was here,” C.J. said, taking up the curly brown braid. She started pulling apart the sections, the hair feeling soft in her fingers. 

This wasn’t the first time she’d done Cerulean’s hair. One of the first times they’d spent the day together just the two of them, C.J. had mentioned her mother used to do her hair nicely for Sunday morning Mass. Cerulean had asked about what C.J.’s mom did with her hair, and C.J. had eventually figured out that Cerulean’s hair was rarely done in anything other than the two braids. They then made it a habit, whenever the two of them were spending time together, C.J. played with Cerulean’s hair and put it in a new style. She had promised to teach Sam how to do some of the braids- he was going to need them soon. Doing Cerulean’s hair was actually very calming, C.J. found. There was nothing stressful about combing through those curls. 

*

George and Christine sat with hospital security as Officer Kendall brought in ‘Cousin Will.’ He was a man of average build with dark brown curls and familiar blue eyes. His presence, George noted, made him seem smaller than he was upon entering the conference with the slightly obnoxious fluorescent lights. 

“Hello, I’m Will.” His voice was very quiet and unassertive. He took a seat across from Christine. “You must be the Dosils. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, though I wish it were under better circumstances,” Christine replied. Will nodded.

“I’m very sorry to hear about Jason,” he said. “He was a sweet boy.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all sorry to hear about the boy,” the head of hospital security interrupted. George shot the man a glare. The head of security was a Mr. Gordon who looked he belonged in a bad movie supposedly about political intrigue, with his thinning hair puffed up in a pompadour to hide the fact that he was getting bald and his cheap suit. “But there was a break-in-”

“Hold on, Mr. Gordon, you’re getting ahead of us here,” Kendall said in a calm voice. “Someone slipped through hospital security, that’s true, but that’s trespassing, not a break-in. Now, if we can figure out who did the trespassing, we can find out if they mean any harm, and we’ll all sleep better once that’s all settled. Now, Will- is it all right if I call you Will?” Will shrugged.

“I don’t mind.”

“All right then, Will. You’re a maternal cousin, aren’t you? Anna Barber’s cousin?” Kendall asked.

“Yes.”

“And you bought this bear?” Kendall held up a photograph of Fred the Bear. George wondered where he’d gotten the photo as Will nodded. “Could you tell us about it?”

“I was invited to Anna and Thomas’ house once, when I was in graduate school,” Will said. “I brought each of the boys toys from a small store by the school. Cerulean wasn’t around yet, but I went to the same store to buy her something when she was born.”

“Which store did you get it from?” Kendall asked. Will paused as he recalled the name.

“Xavier’s Hobby Shop. It was a tiny, tiny place on Dean Avenue, but there was incredible quality of craftsmanship.”

“Who knew you got the toys there?” Kendall said. 

“Why does that matter? It’s not like someone would break into a hospital to steal a teddy bear,” Will replied.

“No, but apparently someone broke into replace it,” Mr. Gordon snapped.

“It’s trespassing,” Kendall said again. “But that’s not the point. The point is that someone went to great lengths to replace the bear and I want to know who. Will, who knew where you got it?”

“Thomas certainly didn’t. He thought it was cheap and silly to get toys from a mom-and-pop store,” Will said. “But Anna asked me the name in case she had to replace any of the toys.” George threw a look to Christine, whose lips had thinned in disapproval.

“Anna,” Mr. Gordon drawled. “Well, the…trespasser was a woman. Mr. and Mrs. Dosil both saw her, and they can provide a description. Mr. Dosil?” George gestured to Christine.

“You start.”

“Well, she was short, but not that short,” Christine began. “She had light brown hair-”

“Wavy light brown hair,” George added.

“Yeah, wavy, the same color as Zach’s,” Christine agreed. “And blue eyes.” 

“Sort of a blue shot with gray-”

“Yeah, definitely some gray in there.”

“Does that sound familiar to you, Will?” Kendall asked. Will hesitated.

“It sounds like Anna,” he admitted. 

“But Anna Barber hasn’t been seen in nearly five years,” George said. “Why would she come back now?” Will shrugged.

“Perhaps she felt it was necessary,” he said. “Anna may have disappeared, but she loves her children.”

“But she didn’t come claim them after Thomas went to jail,” George said. “Replacing a toy, no matter how much a comfort object it is, doesn’t make up for abandoning your kid.”

*

When Hannah came back to the hospital, she found Cerulean sitting in the lap of a tall redheaded woman. The woman has Cerulean’s little fingers in one hand while the other applied light blue nail polish to the tiny fingernails. 

“And then the basketball was found across the street by a very confused woman who ran a pet store,” the woman said. Cerulean giggled. Hannah then noticed Cerulean’s hair had been carefully arranged into a French braid on the side of her head.

“That sounds like a very interesting story,” Hannah remarked. Cerulean and the woman looked up at her. 

“Hi, Nana,” Cerulean said. “Aunt C.J.’s paintin my nails.”

“I see. They look lovely,” Hannah replied. “You must be C.J. Cregg- I’m Hannah Seaborn.”

“Nice to meet you ma’am,” C.J. said, giving Hannah a tired smile. 

“And you. Though these aren’t exactly the circumstances I imagined for meeting Sam’s friends,” Hannah said. C.J. nodded and looked back to Cerulean’s nails.

“They are unpredicted,” C.J. said. “Are you doing all right, Mrs. Seaborn?”

“Hannah, please. And I’m doing just fine.” Hannah took a seat beside the bed. “And you?”

“I’m hanging in there.” C.J. finished Cerulean’s right hand and picked up her left. “Have you seen the Dosils?”

“No. Do you know where they went?” Hannah asked. 

“They left when Uncle Josh came in. The policeman went too,” Cerulean answered. Hannah recalled Zach’s suspicion about Fred and wondered if something had come out of that. 

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” C.J. said. Hannah’s cell phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket to see it was Joseph. Again. She sighed, silenced the phone, and put it away. “Problem?”

“Joseph,” Hannah answered with more venom than was probably necessary. “He won’t stop calling me asking what he can do to help. It doesn’t matter how many times I remind him that Sam still can’t speak to him in anything resembling a civil tone-” She stopped herself from recounting that Sam will only refer to Joseph as ‘that jackass’ when she realized Cerulean was watching her curiously.

“Yeah, I can see the frustration in that,” C.J. said. “It is nice that he wants to help.”

“Joseph, not being involved in a family crisis? That would never happen,” Hannah said with a bitter smile. “He’s got an insufferable need to be the hero.”

“Gee, I don’t know anyone like that,” C.J. said. She made no effort to conceal the sarcasm and Hannah laughed. Cerulean looked between the two of them, nose scrunched in confusion. “You’re almost finished, sweetie, stop moving.”

“Sorry, Aunt C.J.”

“You know, Hannah, maybe there is something Joseph can do that won’t upset Sam,” C.J. said as she took the last of Cerulean’s fingers in her hand. Hannah arched an eyebrow.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. He could send get-well packages for Cerulean and Zach,” C.J. said. “He can put whatever in them- coloring books, toys, stickers, anything. Sam doesn’t have to know if you think it’ll bug him. You can say they’re from your friends. Sam’s happy and Joseph’s happy.”

“That could work,” Hannah agreed, nodding. “It certainly stops Joseph from calling me incessantly.” A door in the room opened and Zach came out of what appeared to be a bathroom. He looked slightly better than the last time Hannah had seen him. Slightly. He still had dark circles under his eyes.

“Hello, Zach,” Hannah said. Zach blinked at her.

“Hi. When did you get back?”

“Just now. How are things?” she asked. Zach shrugged and sat in the seat next to hers.

“How are the girly things going?” he said to Cerulean and C.J. 

“I’m just finishing up this manicure,” C.J. said. She capped the nail polish and held Cerulean’s hands out. “What do you think, sweetie?”

“Very pretty. Thank you, Aunt C.J.” Cerulean wiggled her newly blue-tipped fingers. “Nana, who’s Joseph?” Hannah and C.J. exchanged a look. 

“He’s Sam’s Dad,” C.J. said. 

“Oh,” Cerulean said. “And why is Daddy mad at him?” 

“It’s a long story,” Hannah said. “I’ll tell you some other time.” Zach’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Hannah had a feeling this was going to come back to bite at least one of them in the ass. 

*

In the Roosevelt Room, Sam found Joey Lucas, Kenny, and Josh going over the latest polling numbers. Kenny tapped Joey on the shoulder when he heard Sam come in. Joey looked up.

“Sam!” she said in her strange but lovely voice. She began signing frantically to Kenny.

“I heard about your daughter. I’m very sorry, is there anything I can do to help?” he said for Joey. Sam looked at Josh, who shrugged.

“Thanks, but I think she’s all right for now,” Sam said. Kenny turned to translate for Joey. “I know most of the Communications Office is sending flowers, and somebody was saying something about balloons. I don’t know about that.”

“That would be Donna,” Josh said with a sigh. “If you think the balloons are a bad idea, I can stop her-”

“I don’t mind. She knows what Cerulean likes.”

“How do I get in on the balloons?” Joey asked through Kenny. 

“Talk to Donna,” Josh said, tired smile growing on his face. “If you want in, I’m sure Cerulean will get double the balloons.” Joey laughed. The door opened and Toby walked in. 

“What is this, Comedy Hour? We’re supposed to be working with these numbers, people!” he thundered. The others exchanged conspiratorial looks before going back to the pages on the table.

*

“Ma’am?” Abbey Bartlet was in her study in the residence. She had been reading some of medical reference books, splitting her focus between the pages on Multiple Sclerosis and those regarding pediatric cardiology. The MS pages had been read and bookmarked a thousand times over. The pediatric cardiology pages had barely been glanced at before today.

Abbey had heard the news from C.J. this morning before that disastrous briefing. She later found out she’d known before Leo and Jed, which was slightly funny to her given earlier events. Since Abbey had heard through various channels about a car, a murder attempt, a cousin, a card, a teddy bear, and something about balloons. Abbey’s PA was in contact with Charlie and he confirmed what he knew. He also promised to bring over the card for Cerulean when it came his way.

“Ma’am?” Abbey looked up to see Charlie leaning into the study. She worked up a smile. 

“Hello, Charlie. Sorry, I was just doing some reading. Come in, come in.” Abbey waved Charlie in. He entered with a card that was possibly taller than Cerulean herself and was made with enough sparkles to satisfy a Vega showgirl. Abbey laughed out loud for the first time in days. “My God, Charlie!”

“Yeah, that was my reaction too, ma’am,” Charlie said with a tired grin. “Think she’s gonna like it?”

“Of course she will! Just look at those flowers!” Abbey replied. She reached for the card. “Let me have it, Charlie.” He held the end out to her, glitter coming off on his fingers. Abbey took the card and put it on her desk. She pushed her books aside to open it up.

The inside of the card was full of handwritten messages. Abbey recognised her husband’s writing taking up the top corner of the right side. There was still space left; Toby’s distinctive penmanship was missing, among others. Abbey looked at the bright colors of the inks and wondered where those had come from.

“Margaret also insisted on these pens she and Carol got,” Charlie said, pulling a plastic bag from his pocket. It was filled with pens in every color of the rainbow, plus a few more. Abbey chuckled as she took the bag. 

“They’re lovely pens. Where’s this going after I sign it?” she asked.

“Kathy and Toby. They’re last ones, then we give it to Sam to take to Cerulean.”

“I can take it down, Charlie. I see you’ve already signed, so you can back to keeping track of that idiot I married,” Abbey said. Charlie flinched. 

“Sure thing, ma’am. I’ll let Kathy know.”

“Thank you, Charlie.” He left and Abbey turned her focus to the card. “Now, Cerulean, what do you want to hear…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The glitteriffic references might be a bit over the top, but you need all the humor you can get in a story like this.


	9. And So We Keep Going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is better with glitter, cupcakes, and emotional confessions.

Christine and George came back shortly after C.J. left, retaking their seats on the bench by the window. Both looked thoroughly annoyed and neither spoke for a few minutes. Zach knew what they had just found out- it was Mom who got the new Fred for Cerule. And she didn’t bother to come see them. She had been alive and informed this whole time- all five years- and she didn’t come get them after Dad got arrested either. To borrow a phrase from Dad, what the fuck was her problem? Moms aren’t supposed to leave their kids. God, why was there nobody for Zach to lean on? Why was it just him looking out for his little sister and brother? It wasn’t even that anymore, now that he thought of it, and would be less soon.

“Zach?” George put a gentle hand on Zach’s good shoulder. Zach looked up at him as Christine went over to Cerulean and Hannah.

“Yeah?”

“We were thinking, maybe when Sam comes back, the three of us could go to dinner at that Italian place you like,” George said softly. “If Cerulean’s okay with you going. If she’s not, we’ll stay.”

“Why would we do that?” Zach said.

“Because eventually we need get out of the hospital,” George replied. “We were thinking you especially need to get out, if just for a little while. We’re worried about you, man.” Zach stared at him. He’d known George and Christine liked him, but plenty of people liked him and didn’t do a thing to help him. They certainly didn’t say, ‘I’m worried about you, let’s go do something you like.’

Maybe Zach wasn’t as alone as he thought.

*

As they finished up with the numbers and C.J. stole Josh from them, Toby followed Sam back to their bullpen. 

“Sam?” Toby began. His deputy turned back to him. Sam looked exhausted still, but there was relief etched into his face now. Toby felt a lot better just seeing that.

“Yeah, Toby?” Sam asked.

“You, uh, you doing okay?” Toby caught up with Sam, their strides beginning to even.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? If you need to go to see Cerulean, or talk to her on the phone, you can-”

“Toby, if I need to do either of those, I’ll just tell you,” Sam interrupted. Toby nodded.

“Just checking. And letting you know that you can tell me these things when they happen.”

“I know,” Sam said. As they walked into the bullpen, Ginger was on her way out.

“It’s in your office, Toby,” she said. Toby saw the folders in her hands were slightly glittery.

“Thanks, Ginger.”

“What’s in your office?” Sam asked.

“Not you. If you’re not taking care of Cerulean, get back to work.”

*

C.J. grabbed Josh as he came out of the Mural Room. Josh did not like the look on her face. It was a ‘I’m worried about something and you’re about to be worried about it too’ face.

“What? What’s going on?” Josh asked as she pulled him away from Sam and Toby. 

“Did you talk to Zach when you were at the hospital?” C.J. said.

“Yeah, for like a second. Why?” 

“What did he say?” C.J. continued without answering him.

“Uh, he said that he knew who I was. That was it. Why, did you talk to him?” Josh said. 

“All I got from him was that Cerulean’s new painkiller was making her clingy and that he was glad she had me for girly things,” C.J. replied. “I think one of us should talk to him about the accident.”

“No way,” Josh said before he could think it through. C.J. gave him a weird look. “I mean, that kid has been through enough, you really wanna make him relive that? He just lost his brother.”

“I know that. But we need to hear what happened in case there are questions.”

“So talk to Kendall.”

“Who’s Kendall?” C.J. said.

“Officer Kendall. The guy who’s doing all the investigative stuff,” Josh answered. 

“Right, right. I was going to kept his name from Kathy anyway. Do you think the Dosils or Zach will talk to the Press?” C.J. asked.

“Zach doesn’t wanna talk to anybody, it seems, and I think the Dosils just want the kids to be all right,” Josh said. C.J. nodded. “I wouldn’t worry that much. Who’s gonna ask about a car crash when there’s a scandal to milk for all it’s worth?”

“Anyone who wants the first scoop on a story that’ll sell to outraged parents,” C.J. replied in a flat tone. “I know how to do my job, Josh. Don’t tell me what to worry about.” She stalked off towards her office. Josh winced.

“Yeah, that could have gone better…”

*

About half an hour after Toby ushered Sam away from his office, Sam was finishing up a meeting with Ainsley in her office. She followed him out the door.

“Um, Ainsley, I understand the point. You don’t have to continue making it,” Sam said to her. She nodded.

“Maybe not, but I heard there are balloons being ordered for Cerulean and I want in on it,” Ainsley said. Sam nodded.

“Of course you do.”

“I also think we should get her cupcakes. Cupcakes make everything better, Sam,” Ainsley added.

“Dr. Bartlet might disagree. Whatever you want to send Cerulean, be my guest,” Sam replied. “Donna’s in charge of the balloons, though. I have no say in that.”

“Well, no, because you’d get all uptight about how many balloons we could get,” Ainsley said. “That’s your job as a dad.”

“Being uptight about balloons? Seriously?” Sam said. Ainsley shrugged.

“You’re supposed to be responsible now.”

“Does paternal responsibility translate to uptightness abut balloons in North Carolina?”

“When the situation arises. What if Donna decided we should have the balloons filled with glitter and popped when they start to sink so the glitter goes everywhere?” Ainsley said as they started upstairs. 

“I think the hospital would have some choice words about that,” Sam answered. 

“See? There’s you being responsible.”

“Ainsley, this is an absolutely thrilling conversation, but don’t you have work to do? Being that you’re the Associate White House Counsel in the middle of a legal scandal that’s ridiculous enough to be the next Watergate and all,” Sam said.

“Funnily enough I do, Sam, but I am taking a five minute break to get in on the balloons for my favorite unofficial niece,” Ainsley replied. “And possibly get a bagel.”

“All right then. As long as you have a plan.” They turned into the Communications Bullpen. There was a congregation by Kathy’s desk, including all the Communications assistants, Donna, Margaret, Carol, and Charlie. Sam was bewildered, then suspicious. This couldn’t have anything to do with-

“Sam!” Ginger spotted him and they all turned. There was some furtive glancing and pushing of a large object behind Charlie and Carol. This is totally the card. Now, I have to convincingly act surprised…

“What’s the crowd for? Did something happen at the hospital?” Sam asked, trying to sound worried. The guilt on more than one face told him he succeeded.

“No! No, we, uh, have something for you,” Bonnie said. Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Well, it’s actually for Cerulean,” Margaret said. “See, Carol and I were out to lunch, and we were trying to think of something we could get Cerulean that would be allowed in the ICU, because we weren’t sure how long she’d be there. Of course she’s not in the ICU anymore-” Donna nudged Margaret’s shoulder gently and Margaret took the hint. “We got Cerulean a giant card for everyone to sign.” Carol and Charlie stepped aside to reveal the glitter and flower extravaganza on of a card. Sam blinked a few times in hopes that he could look shocked. He was surprised to find the card looked larger and more sparkly than he remembered.

“Wow. That’s…a giant card.”

“How articulate,” a dry voice commented from Toby’s office. Sam turned to see his boss in the doorway with C.J., both smiling slightly. “Remind again why you’re a speechwriter?” C.J. shoved him.

“Leave him alone, Toby.”

“Cerulean’s going to love it,” Sam said, turning back to the crowd. “Thank you.”

“Hey, anything for Cerulean,” Bonnie said. “She’s family.”

“And this was fun,” Carol said. 

“You have to tell us what she says when she gets it,” Kathy added. “And whose message she likes best.”

“Of course. Is there something to carry it in? Don’t want to lose any of that spectacular amount of glitter,” Sam said. Ginger produced a plastic bag from her desk large enough to hold the card.

“I don’t know that losing some would make any difference. That is a lot of glitter,” Donna said.

“Yeah, it dumped a truckload on me,” Charlie agreed, holding out his arms to display his sparkly shirt sleeves. 

“Them’s the breaks, Charlie,” Margaret said without any sympathy whatsoever. Sam had to stifle a laugh as Bonnie put the card in the bag Ginger held. Ginger handed Sam the bag.

“Here you are.”

“Thank you. Really, thank you for everything, all of you,” Sam said. 

“Wait til the balloons come in. That’s gonna be a show,” Donna said, grinning widely. 

“I’m sure.”

*

Cerulean sat in the big squishy bed with the big squishy pillows. Her nails were light blue thanks to Aunt C.J. and her hair was in a pretty braid, also thanks to Aunt C.J. Fred was right next to her like he should be. Zach was sitting with George and Christine while they argued over whether or not Zach should make up the schoolwork he’d missed. Christine was against homework, George was for it. Nana, who everybody else called Hannah, was by the shelf looking for a book to read to Cerulean. 

Nana Hannah was very nice and Cerulean liked her just fine. There had been a point earlier when Nana Hannah went out into the hall with her cell phone and Cerulean had heard a kinda loud ‘you made your bed, now lie in it’ from her new grandmother, which she didn’t understand because when she had to make her bed, she usually didn’t have to lie in it until it was time to sleep. When Nana Hannah came back in, she looked a little annoyed and said something under her breath Uncle Josh had once shouted when he didn’t know Cerulean was around. From the way Aunt Donna yelled at him for it, Cerulean guessed it was not very nice. She would have to ask Zach what ‘whiny son of a bitch’ meant later. 

It was starting to get dark outside. The window by the bench seat showed a navy sky dotted by the lights of the city and cars. Cerulean watched the sky get darker and the lights get brighter. She wondered what everybody at the White House was doing. Uncle Josh said there was a thing they all had to do. Cerulean didn’t know what the thing was, but Christine said she couldn’t turn on ZNN to find out. Maybe Daddy would tell her when he came back. He was supposed to come back tonight, and it was night now. He had to be coming soon. Cerulean really wanted Daddy to come soon. Or Uncle Toby. He would be good too, though Cerulean kinda wanted to see Daddy more.

Just as she finished the thought, the door opened. Daddy and Uncle Toby came in. Daddy had a big plastic bag and Uncle Toby had a white box with string around it. Cerulean smiled when she saw them.

“Daddy! Uncle Toby!” They smiled back at her. Uncle Toby put his box down on the shelf by the TV and Daddy walked over to Cerulean in the big squishy bed. 

“Hey, Cerulean. I have something for you.” He held out the big bag. Cerulean couldn’t see through the white plastic, but she reached inside anyway. Something made of thick paper was waiting, and it was so big Daddy had to help Cerulean pull it out of the bag. A cloud of glitter fell on Cerulean as the BIGGEST CARD SHE HAD EVER SEEN landed on the bed next to her. It had huge sparkly flowers all over it in all different colors and it was PRETTIEST CARD EVER. Cerulean was very sure of that.

“Ooh!” She squealed. Glitter was everywhere. Everybody was laughing except for Zach. Cerulean glanced to see him smiling. Then she turned to back to the biggest prettiest card to ever live. 

“Daddy, it’s wonderful!” Cerulean said. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Daddy said. “Aunt Margaret and Aunt Carol got it for you, and then everybody signed.”

“Everybody?” Cerulean repeated. 

“Everyone from Ainsley to the President,” Uncle Toby said.

“Auntie Ainsley and Mr. President!” Cerulean said. She lifted the cover of the card to open it and found that the inside was covered in writing. The writing was all different colors too, except for the part in the middle that said ‘Get Well Soon’ in white. “Wow!”

“That is quite impressive!” Nana Hannah said. 

“There’s glitter everywhere,” Zach said.

“Isn’t it great?” Cerulean scooped some glitter off the lap of her hospital nightgown and threw it at him. “Glitter!”

“Don’t throw glitter at your brother,” Christine said, trying hard not to smile. 

“But it’s glitter!” Cerulean said.

“She’s right, you can’t throw glitter at people,” Daddy replied. “Unless they want glitter on them.” Cerulean looked up at him.

“Do you want glitter on you?” she asked. Daddy thought about it for a moment. 

“Only if I get to hug you.”

“Okay!” Cerulean reached for him and he pulled her into his arms. He picked her up too, making the tube connected to her arm tug a little bit. Cerulean liked being picked up by Daddy, and she didn’t mind the tugging. 

“Be careful, Sam,” Nana Hannah said. 

“Right.” Daddy put Cerulean back on the big squishy bed. Oh, well. Some was better than none. 

Christine and George stood up. George pulled Zach to his feet too as Christine looked to Cerulean.

“Now that your Daddy is here, Cerulean, we’re gonna go,” she said. “Is that still okay with you, honey? We can stay if you want.” Cerulean looked at her Daddy, then at Zach. 

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Cerulean knew Zach was willing to stay if she asked, but she had heard the grownups whisper that he needed to get out of the hospital. It wasn’t good for him, they said quietly. So Cerulean would say okay, and she would have her Daddy and her Nana Hannah and her Uncle Toby for a while. She’d be okay.

“All right then. Zach, George, let’s go.” Zach bit his lip.

“I’ll be back later,” he said. 

“Will you still have glitter on your face?” Cerulean asked. Zach smiled just a little bit.

“No. I will get rid of all my glitter,” he said. 

“Glitter is cool. You’re missing out.” The grownups laughed again. Cerulean didn’t see what was so funny about Zach missing out on the cool. He went with Christine and George out the door. Cerulean wondered where they were going. Uncle Toby turned to Daddy.

“Remind me to teach her new adjectives,” he said. Daddy rolled his eyes. 

“Isn’t wonderful enough for you?”

“No. Because I plan on making her a better writer than you,” Uncle Toby said. Nana Hannah laughed.

“Good luck with that,” she said. 

“Perseverance should help too,” Uncle Toby said. Cerulean tried to remember if she knew what purse-a-veer-aunts meant, mouthing the parts of the word. She didn’t. Or she didn’t remember.

“What’s that mean?” Cerulean asked. 

“Sticking to something,” Daddy said. “Endurance.” Cerulean nodded. She knew what endurance meant. The big kids at school had to do endurance tests in gym class. The door opened again. Cerulean thought maybe Zach had come back, but it was Dr. Ung again. She smiled at all of them. Cerulean liked Dr. Ung since she made sure Fred was okay. 

“Hello again, Mr. Seaborn. I was just looking for you,” Dr. Ung said. “We’ve decided how to proceed with Cerulean’s recovery.” Daddy became more serious and nodded.

“All right. What are we doing?”

“We’d like keep Cerulean here for a few weeks. That’s the prescribed observation-slash-recovery time for cardiac surgery outpatients,” Dr. Ung said. “After that, she can go home, but no strenuous activity for a while.”

“So no gym class?” Cerulean asked. She didn’t really like the idea of being in the hospital for a few weeks- that was a really long time- but Zach said she wasn’t supposed to argue with the doctor. And Christine told her that with all her aunts and uncles she could whine a little bit to each one and they’d come see her more. Cerulean liked the idea of seeing everybody more.

“No gym class,” Dr. Ung said. “No running round or climbing or swimming or anything that will make your heart beat fast until the last week of June. Then you can start working your way up to it.” Cerulean sighed.

“Yeah, okay.”

“There are some after-effects of the surgery you should be aware of. I already briefed Mr. and Mrs. Dosil, so they know them too,” Dr. Ung said. “I’m sure Cerulean doesn’t want to hear them again. Would you mind stepping outside, Mr. Seaborn?”

“I guess not. Cerulean, I’ll be right outside,” Daddy said. Cerulean nodded. She looked at Uncle Toby, whose eyes moved from Dr. Ung to Nana Hannah. 

“I’ll come with you. I missed the first time,” Nana Hannah said. She, Daddy, and Dr. Ung walked out into the hallway. Uncle Toby made his way over to the chairs by the big squishy bed and sat down. He looked at Cerulean with his normal face, the one that doesn’t move a lot, but there were feelings in his eyes Cerulean didn’t know. She’d never seen them there before.

“Cerulean,” he said. “You know that I love you very much, right?” 

“Yeah,” Cerulean said. She did know that, much to her surprise. Then again, she didn’t usually think about it. It was one of those things she just knew, like that the sky is up or that the ground is down. 

“Good. Good.” Uncle Toby’s fingers moved back and forth on the blue-green chair arm. “Do you remember- do you remember the last time you came to the office? I had my door closed.” Cerulean nodded.

“Ginger said you were busy.”

“I was. But I should have come see you anyway,” Uncle Toby said. “But I, uh…I had just learned something upsetting. And I didn’t want to see anybody.” His hand made a fist and he looked over Cerulean’s head. “I shut my door and kept everybody out. I did the same thing when I heard about what happened yesterday, what happened to you.”

“Were you worried about me?” Cerulean asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you think I was dead?” Uncle Toby winced.

“No. No, by the time I heard, we knew you were going to be okay,” he said. “But I keep thinking about how that almost happened. And the last time we could have seen each other, I had shut you out.” Uncle Toby sighed and his hand opened again. “Cerulean, nothing is more important than you. I mean that. You are very important to me, and to everybody else. I want you to know that.” Cerulean didn’t really know what to say next. She thought it over for a minute before scooching to the side of the bed by Uncle Toby’s chair.

“Well, you’re very important to me too.” Cerulean took Uncle Toby’s hand with hers. Her hands were little compared to his, and his nails weren’t as pretty. Some of the glitter on her hands went onto his hand and a thought occurred to Cerulean.

“Did you sign my card, Uncle Toby?” she asked. Uncle Toby scoffed.

“I did more than sign it, Cerulean. Take a look.” Cerulean smiled as she turned to get the biggest prettiest card to ever live. She brought it to Uncle Toby, who helped her hold it open. 

“Where’s yours?” Cerulean asked, looking at all the writings. Uncle Toby pointed to a blue section by the fold in the middle of the card. 

“Right here. Can you read it?”

“Course I can. I read all the time now,” Cerulean said. She squinted at the blue section. “‘Dear Cerulean. I im- imagine you are not feeling spect-specta-spectacular right now, but hope- hopefully you will soon. You are ou little her- hero…hero-in-e?”

“Heroine,” Uncle Toby said. “It’s the feminine word for hero.”

“Right,” Cerulean said. “You know, Uncle Toby, if you used a lot of big words like this, it might be better if you read it to me.”

*

Fatigue, muscle pain, low appetite, swelling, trouble sleeping, mood swings, possible depression, and possible infections. Sam wrote all of that down so he didn’t forget, because he knew Kathy was keeping track of all the information they’d been getting from the doctors and would want to hear it. He was a little disturbed by the infection possibility and the depression possibility, but Hannah assured him they could handle it. She was cool and collected through this whole thing and Sam was incredibly grateful for that.

When Dr. Ung was finished telling them about the things they should watch out for, she was called away to check on another patient. Sam and Hannah went back into Cerulean’s room, Sam shoving the small notepad back into his pocket. They found Toby and Cerulean reading some of the messages on her massive card. As Sam approached, Cerulean started to shut the card.

“’M tired, Uncle Toby,” she said. “Thanks for helpin’ me read it.”

“My pleasure,” Toby replied. “I should probably be going. I have to meet with Babbish and Josh soon.”

“Do you have to?” Cerulean said, voice tinged with whininess. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow, Cerulean. You’ve got your dad and your grandmother and-” Toby turned to Sam. “Did you ask about the…” He gestured towards the shelf, where Ainsley’s bakery box sat. 

“Right! Yes, I did. She said it was fine,” Sam said. 

“What’s fine?” Cerulean asked, whining forgotten. Sam picked the box up from the shelf and brought it over.

“Let’s find out. Auntie Ainsley ordered them, so I imagine it’s laden with sugar,” he said, sitting next to Cerulean. She wormed her way under his arm and set herself as close to him as possible. Toby made his way towards the door.

“See you all tomorrow.”

“See you, Toby,” Sam called as he started untying the strings on the box.

“Bye, Uncle Toby.” The strings started to come undone as Toby left. Hannah took the chair Toby had just vacated. Sam lifted the lid of the box to reveal a bunch of bite-size pink cupcakes. Cerulean squealed again.

“They’re so pretty!”

“They really are,” Sam agreed. The pink icing was topped with miniscule white pearls, which Sam assumed were also made of sugar. “The doctor says you can have one tonight. What do you think?”

“I want…that one!” Cerulean pointed to one in the far corner. Sam fished it out for her, thankfully keeping the frosting on the cupcake and not on his fingers. Hannah laughed.

“Oh my, those are pretty!” she said. “And who ordered them again?”

“Ainsley. I’m sure you’ll meet her soon, she was talking about coming by,” Sam said, handing the cupcake to Cerulean. Her hands were shaking a little, so Sam started pulling the wrapper down for her.

“I can do it,” Cerulean said. 

“Sorry. Go ahead.” Cerulean took over peeling the wrapper and the cupcake fell over in her hand. The frosting was smeared on her palm when she righted it. Cerulean giggled.

“Now it’s sparkly too,” she said. “Daddy, you can do the rest.” Sam took the cupcake and carefully pulled the wrapper off. Cerulean licked the frosting off her hand while he did. “The frosting’s really good.”

“Here, try the rest of it.” Sam gave the cupcake back. “Mom, you want one?”

“No thanks. I’m all right.” Hannah was watching Cerulean with a smile. The cupcake didn’t last long, small as it was, and Cerulean turned to Sam. Pink frosting had gotten on her nose. Sam wiped it off, laughing.

“You’re a mess, Cerulean.”

“I’m allowed to be messy. I’m six,” Cerulean replied. Sam wasn’t quite sure about the reasoning behind that, but he could live with it. He set the box of cupcakes aside.

“Should I tell Auntie Ainsley you like the cupcakes?” he asked.

“Yeah. They’re spec- spectacular.” Cerulean smiled in triumph. Sam had a feeling Toby had been expanding Cerulean’s vocabulary again. 

“Good. She’ll be glad. Now what do you say we read something together before you go to sleep?”

“I don’t wanna go to sleep,” Cerulean replied. Sam glanced at Hannah.

“Well then, we’ll just have a story,” Hannah said quickly, going to the shelf. “There’s plenty of interesting books over here, I can pick one for you.”

“I want Harry Potter,” Cerulean said. Hannah pulled a book off the shelf.

“Would you look at that? They have him right here.” She came back to the bed with the book, the first one if Sam wasn’t mistaken. Hannah handed it to him and Sam held the book out for Cerulean.

“Is this all right, Cerule?” Cerulean nodded and wrapped her arms around him again. Sam opened the book, flicking past the publishing information and the acknowledgements. As he found the first page, Cerulean spoke.

“Hey, Daddy?”

“Yeah, Cerule?”

“I love you.” Sam turned his head to find Cerulean’s face. Her big brown eyes were looking up at him with the hint of a smile. Sam smiled back.

“I love you too.”

*

Josh walked into Leo’s office to find the older man setting down the phone. Leo looked up at Josh.

“Toby back yet?” 

“Yeah, he and I were just with Babbish,” Josh answered. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine. This is just the four hundredth phone call today in which I was told a re-election campaign is virtually impossible,” Leo said.

“Mm,” Josh said. He’d been thinking that for a while, actually. He tried to remember that the first campaign wasn’t supposed to make it out of New Hampshire, but this was vastly different. Josh decided to think about something else. “Cerulean got her card.”

“Yeah? How’d she like it?” Leo asked. 

“She said it was wonderful,” Josh said. “Apparently, she got covered in glitter and was absolutely delighted by that.” Leo chuckled and Josh smiled.

“Can’t believe there was enough glitter left for that. It’s still all over my desk,” Leo said. He picked up a memo and shook it. Josh saw tiny specks of glitter fall off. “Look at this. I can’t get rid of it.”

“Custodial’s already started complaining about glitter trails everywhere,” Josh said

“I know. Margaret told them to shut it and do their jobs like grownups,” Leo replied. 

“God, did she really?”

“You don’t mess with Margaret and her plans,” Leo said. “Do you have any idea the lectures I get when I mess with the schedule?”

“Probably not,” Josh said. “This was a good plan though.” Leo nodded.

“It really was.” 

*

Not too far away, a woman stood across the street from an Italian restaurant. Through the large windows she could see the Dosils and her son enjoying each other’s company. Zach was smiling at whatever Mrs. Dosil was saying to her husband. The woman watching them allowed a small grin to flit across her face before her pager buzzed. 

She picked up the pager and read the message. A series of numbers ran through it in red. Anyone else might think the series was a telephone number, but the woman knew it was coordinates. She pulled the floppy black hat she was wearing down over her face as she began walking away. 

The woman mused on her children, now numbering two. She was glad to see Zach out with his foster parents. To see Cerulean as well would have been nice, but there was no way to do that without being compromised. The nurse ruse only worked as long as she didn’t talk to anyone who worked there, which would be impossible if she tried to get into the ICU. No, it was best not to see Cerulean. Cerulean was in good hands, she knew. Besides, it wasn’t like either of them would recognize each other anyway.

Officer Kendall would alert the missing persons unit that Anna Barber had been spotted at the hospital, but no one would find a trace of her in the city. Thomas Barber would languish in solitary for a while longer as he awaited transfer to a higher security facility, cursing his wife’s name. Zach, the Dosils, the Seaborns and a few others would wonder where she had gone and why she had done what she did. But the woman formerly known as Anna Barber would give no answer as she hailed a cab and disappeared into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on that mysterious note, we end Hearts and Minds. Thanks for coming on this wild ride with me. Trust me when I say writing this has every emotion of reading it to the fourth power, because I rewrote it four times. 
> 
> If you haven't guessed where Cousin Will is from, I'll tell you that Anna's maiden name is Graham. Which would make her initials A.G. That's a different fandom as well, but she's not quite that character yet. She'll get there one day, and she'll be back in Cerulean's life one day too. Of that there is no doubt. And I promise, Zach is going to be okay.
> 
> Reviews make it easier for me to continue, please leave me something to work with!


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